


Pieces of You

by JamieJam93



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: And other mental health issues, Anorexia Nervosa, Child Abandonment, Drinking, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Language, Hurt!Liam, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Recreational Drug Use, body image issues, hurt!harry, mentioned Homophobia, minor self injury, some slut shaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 04:21:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 50
Words: 282,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6596491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieJam93/pseuds/JamieJam93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Larry/Niam story in which Louis is a famous pop star, Liam is the back-up dancer who sleeps with people like it's a game, Niall is the back-up dancer who falls hopelessly in love with Liam, Harry is the back-up dancer that Louis loves through all of his body image issues and eating disorders and Zayn is the back-up dancer who doesn't know why he stays around for the all the drama, but he just can't walk away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, yes, I know; I can't write a story in which no one is psychologically traumatized, and I'm visiting the terrifying world of eating disorders again. (I changed it up this time, though-Louis isn't the most psychologically traumatized. He got a break!) With that being said, though, this story will deal heavily with eating disorders, so if that is going to be triggering for you, please do not read.
> 
> I will also be writing this story from the point of view of Harry, Louis, Liam and Niall (though the first two chapters are just Harry.) Writing from different POVs is something I've been wanting to try for a while, so here it goes!
> 
> I am going to attempt to update this every Monday! It may not always happen, but that is the goal.

***Harry***

Harry sighed, throwing his make-up brush on his bathroom counter and patting the messy bun on top of his head one more time before deciding to just give up. He just wasn't going to get it down today. Sometimes, he could apply the bit of make-up he did wear just right and look good enough to actually feel confident about himself, but most of the time, such as that day, he fell just short of getting it and was left nervous and uncomfortable overall while facing the world.

Still, some make-up was better than none.

It wasn't that Harry even wore a lot; just some foundation, subtle lip color and contouring tools to make his face look a little thinner, but he needed it. He could barely look at himself in the mirror without it, so he wasn't going to force the world to endure a naked-faced Harry. It was a social service, really.

Turning away from the mirror, Harry picked at his too-tight shirt before grabbing his dance bag from its designated place on his bedroom chair (his bag's throne) and heading out. He'd decided upon waking up that he would walk to class that day. It was warm, as summer (and graduation) was only a couple of weeks away and, besides, he could use the exercise anyway, as he'd had to miss a couple of dance classes last week due to a chest cold that left him coughing up a lung while he was sitting and doing nothing, let alone dancing his heart out.

Harry was better from the cold now, but he still felt disgusting.

Since he'd walked a good 2.75 miles to class (he'd tracked it), Harry ate the protein bar he had in his bag for emergency purposes before heading into the dance studio, to ensure that he would have enough energy to make it to the end. Eating the bar made him feel as if he'd just lost all of the progress he'd made by walking, but he rationalized that he still had his walk home and that he could practice for the recital in the living room of his apartment after that.

“Welcome back, Harry!” Ms. Gloria, the dance instructor, greeted the student as he entered her class. Harry liked Ms. Gloria. She had been the instructor for all of his favorite dance classes the past four years, which he didn't find to be a coincidence. The middle-aged woman was so talented that Harry didn't know how she hadn't made it past 'dance instructor,' even if this was one of the best dance colleges in London. She was so kind, though; always helping students, no matter their talent ranking. She was encouraging, too, and sometimes she even made Harry feel like he wasn't a complete embarrassment to himself. Honestly, Harry didn't know what he was going to do once graduation was over and Ms. Gloria wasn't in his life anymore.

Of course, he really didn't know what he was going to do after graduation, period. He would try to find a job where he could use his education, but, though he would love to be a professional dancer, Harry knew they weren't easy to come by and he wasn't the best dancer anyway. He should be a lot better, he knew, as he'd started at age three. His mom had put him in ballet, as he'd been an overactive child and she thought maybe that would help him to calm down. Harry never really got the hang of ballet, so after two years, she withdrew him and put him in hip-hop instead. There, Harry thrived. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration, but he was a lot better at hip-hop than he was at ballet, and he enjoyed it a lot more too. Still, as much as he enjoyed it, and even though he knew he was better in that genre than ballet, Harry still felt inadequate.

He wondered if that was actually how he felt, or if that was the disorder talking. Could the disorder still be that strong after he'd been 'recovered' for five years, minus a couple of minor relapses?

From the age of eleven to the age of fifteen, Harry suffered from anorexia nervosa. The path to that discovery was a long and harrowing journey for both him and his family, but Harry finally accepted his diagnosis and didn't hold it against his parents when they sent him to a treatment facility at the age of fifteen. They didn't know how to handle him anymore, which Harry understood, because he couldn't handle his own thoughts or feelings either. Besides, it wasn't so bad in there, and Harry did get better. Sure, maybe he still wasn't completely 'normal,' but he was okay and happy. He really was. At least most of the time.

Harry's father blamed dancing for Harry's eating disorder and for the first year that he was out of treatment, he wasn't allowed to participate in the sport. He still did, with the support of his mother, unbeknownst to the other man, but when Harry told his parents that he had chosen dance to be his area of study after secondary school, his father refused to send him away to the dance college Harry had already been dreaming of since he was little. Eventually Harry got his way, after explaining (multiple times) that dance actually helped. He'd told his dad that, when he was suffering from anorexia, he could sometimes dance instead of purge, or he could let himself eat something because he knew that he needed it in order to be able to dance. He hadn't mentioned that the same had been true for the past year while he was recovered, of course, but his father finally agreed to let him go to dance school anyway.

And here Harry was.

Liam smiled and nodded to Harry as he walked over to take his designated warm-up spot next to the other man. Harry nodded and smiled back, but they didn't have time for the friendly chats that they sometimes had before class. Harry liked Liam. They hadn't met until that year, as Liam had transferred from another school for his final year after a rather scandalous affair with a teacher. Liam was the polar opposite of Harry in almost every way. Whenever they would go out on the weekends (which wasn't often, but it still happened sometimes), Liam would be flirting with the entire dance floor, accepting shot after shot and inevitably losing his shirt. Harry, on the other hand, watched from a distance, running at any sign of interest from other men or women. Not that Harry was a virgin. He'd had a steady boyfriend for two years who he had learned to be intimate with, but it had taken a while. He still had a good time with Liam, though, and was grateful for his company, as he was the only person that Harry could really even consider as something close to a friend.

Still, as much as Harry liked Liam, he hated standing next to him. Liam's body was literal perfection. He was sure the people who hit on him in bars and clubs only did so as a last resort when Liam was tied up with someone else. More than that, though, Harry really despised standing next to Liam in dance class. He tried not to look in the mirror often, but when he did unthinkingly glance at his reflection, all he saw was awkward movements, a strange face and a body that just wasn't fit enough while Liam's fit body could move and contort any way he wished. Easily, Liam was one of the top in the class, if not _the_ top.

Not that Liam didn't deserve it because he did. He was always practicing and perhaps even more passionate about dance than Harry. Harry danced to lose himself. Liam danced to find and express himself.

It was funny how that worked, Harry thought.

“Alright, class, before we get started on our recital routine, I have an announcement,” Ms. Gloria began once warm-ups were through and the students took a slight break to get a drink of water. The chatter died down instantly, all eyes traveling to the instructor, even as they walked back to their positions. Ms. Gloria smiled and continued.

“As you know, professionals typically come watch seniors their final couple weeks in school in order to recruit talent. These could be professional dance crews, movie directors, music artists...whoever needs wonderful dancers such as yourselves.'

'Today, and also on Wednesday, we have a singer coming into our class. I have no doubts that most if not all of you will know him. He has a worldwide tour starting up this summer and is putting together a new dance crew for his set, and he was very interested in seeing what our school had to offer! Now, he could pick a lot of you or he could pick none of you. Either way, please don't let it get to your head. All of you are amazing and you all deserve the spot. Please believe that I am not just saying that. However, there are limited spots, of course, and multiple schools are scouted for a crew that just fits together. With that being said, try your best, be professional and good luck!”

Ms. Gloria let the excited and nervous chatter of her students take over the room for a few moments before she smiled again, to herself that time, and went to the door to beckon someone in. Immediately, silence took over the class. Liam glanced to Harry, who shrugged, and they simultaneously turned back to the door, waiting for their guest to enter.

When he finally did, gasps could be heard all around, and even a couple of quiet squeals.

“Hey, everyone,” the singer said with a polite smile and wave before accepting the chair that Ms. Gloria offered him. Harry suddenly wondered if his teacher lived under at least a small rock because the whole class _definitely_ knew this man.

Louis Tomlinson, who just went by Louis or Louis T., became famous at age seventeen with his very first album, when Harry was just fourteen. Admittedly, he'd been Harry's celebrity crush for...Well, to be honest, he was still Harry's celebrity crush, though he wasn't quite as obsessed as he used to be. Needless to say, when Louis came out as gay only one year after his album was released, Harry was elated. That had been the event that helped Harry come to terms with and accept his sexuality, and therefore, he came out to his parents right after. (They hadn't been too surprised, though, perhaps because of the multiple posters of Louis on Harry's wall.)

His parents were supportive. In fact, they even bought Harry concert tickets and backstage passes to meet Louis for Harry's sixteenth birthday. Harry was grateful, and he had a great time at the show, though didn't even use the backstage passes. He was sure his celebrity crush was a nice person, because he wouldn't have a crush on him if he thought otherwise, but he hadn't wanted to see how flirty his fantasy husband was with all of the pretty guys who went to his shows and then be forced to compare it to the completely blank, maybe even disappointed, expression he gave Harry.

He'd told his mom he had a great time but that he didn't like how he looked in the picture that came with the backstage pass. She didn't push to see it after that, knowing if Harry showed her, he would be too busy pointing out all of his flaws.

“Just carry on as if I'm not here,” Louis spoke again, and how long exactly had it been? Harry felt like they had all been gaping at the man forever. Oh well. He had to be used to it by now, but Harry's cheeks burned a little anyway. Luckily, he didn't think Louis had noticed him yet because why would he?

The class giggled nervously and Ms. Gloria hummed while finding their recital song. It was only then that Harry's heart began to race while simultaneously dropping to his stomach. Louis, the guy he'd idolized since he was a young teen, was going to have to notice him eventually. It was hard not to notice an uncoordinated cow in a room of lithe bodies. He would wonder how someone had let such an uncoordinated cow get through four years of dance school without telling him that he was, in fact, a clumsy bovine.

Suddenly, the protein bar that Harry had scarfed down was sitting heavy in his stomach right along with his heart and he felt nauseous.

Still, he carried on like he couldn't care less what anyone thought of him, even a gorgeous singer that he had dreamed of marrying once upon a time.

Well, he tried, at least, but Harry found himself messing up over and over again because all he could think about was that damn food and how he shouldn't have eaten it. He felt sicker with every minute.

After what seemed like what should have been the entirety of the dance class but was really only about fifteen minutes, Harry couldn't take it anymore and he hurried off to the bathroom, head down, praying to not be seen while knowing fully well that that wasn't a possibility.

He didn't throw up on his own and, as sick as he did feel, Harry knew he wasn't going to. If he wanted to throw up, he was going to have to force himself, and he did want to. He wanted to so, so much.

And so he did.

He was better now, and he knew that, so he didn't feel too guilty as he stuck his pointer and his middle finger down his throat and began to gag silently. He was only doing it strategically now, to ease the feeling of nausea. That was it; the only reason.

After he'd brought up all he could, Harry did feel better. His throat was killing him, but other than that, he was back to normal. His stomach had settled, and his nerves too. He could do this. He could make it through the rest of class.

Harry was almost smiling as he walked back to the room.

When he entered the room, the class was in the middle of the routine so he stood back, waiting for them to finish before taking his spot again.

He stared at the back of Louis's head.

That turned out to be a mistake, though, because Louis felt his gaze and turned his head, eyes locking with Harry's. Both of them stared for just a brief moment before Louis smiled, and that was it. Harry couldn't take the day anymore because he knew Louis had only been smiling to hide his laugh at the uncoordinated cow that couldn't even make it fifteen minutes without having to stop for a break.

Harry grabbed his bag from where it sat in front of the mirror and ran, ignoring Ms. Gloria calling out his name behind him. He ran all the way back to his apartment and, though he'd wanted to cry the whole journey back, suddenly, his tears were gone and Harry felt numb. He was okay with that.

The only emotion Harry seemed able to feel right then was tired, and could that even be considered an emotion? Harry didn't know, but whatever it was, Harry felt it, and he dropped his bag before lying down on the floor next to it.

He laid there until he heard a knock on his door sometime later.

Slowly, Harry sat up. Checking his watch, he was shocked to find that he had been laying on the floor for nearly two hours, and hadn't he meant to practice dancing when he got home? Well, leave it to the fat boar to not move for one hundred and twenty minutes.

Standing up, Harry opened the door to find Liam on the other side.

“Oh my god!” the man exclaimed, hands flying up in the air as he brushed by Harry to allow himself into the apartment. “Can you believe today?!”

Before Harry could even answer, Liam changed the subject.

“What happened, by the way? Why did you leave?”

“Oh, nothing big,” Harry said, trying to put some feeling into his voice as he finally remembered to close the door. “I'm just a bit sick.”

“Still?” Liam asked, his eyebrows pulled together in concern.

“I think it's something else now,” Harry told him, diverting his eyes from Liam's worried face, feeling suddenly ashamed. Well, at least his emotions were starting to come back. Harry didn't know whether to be happy about that or not.

“Do you need anything, mate?” Liam continued.

“No, I'm fine, thank you.”

Liam nodded, allowing himself to take a seat on Harry's couch.

“How did the rest of class go?” Harry asked, curling up on the opposite side of him, as if he could really spread his disease to the other man. Except he didn't have a disease. He was fine. Even his psychologist had told him so before claiming that they didn't need to have anymore sessions unless Harry felt they were necessary. Secretly, Harry did, but there were other people who needed his time slot and if the doctor thought he was fine, that meant that he was okay.

“It went pretty well,” Liam answered. “Joey fell on his face. I feel bad for the guy, of course, but that leaves a spot open for someone else, I guess.”

“I'm sure you'll get chosen,” Harry told him, and meant it.

“Please,” Liam said with a roll of his eyes, but there was a big smile on his face that showed that he knew Harry was right. Liam wasn't naïve to how good he was, which he shouldn't be.

“Anyway, you need to rest up,” Liam said, getting to his feet again. “You have to be back at class on Wednesday!”

“It's not like I'll be getting into the tour anyway,” Harry said.

“I think you have a good shot.”

“You're too kind.”

Harry stood to his feet as well to see Liam out the door, but instead of heading that way, Liam took a couple of steps towards Harry, and then squished his friend's cheeks with both hands, causing Harry to make a somewhat humiliating fish face, though that was the least of Harry's concern. He was more worried about Liam feeling just how squishy his chubby cheeks were.

He wondered if he could also feel them burning, because Harry certainly could.

“You need to get some confidence in yourself,” Liam commented. With that, he dropped his hands from Harry's face and gave him a smile. “See you on Wednesday!”

With a chipper wave, Liam turned and all but skipped out of Harry's place. Harry wasn't so sure, at first, if Liam would see him on Wednesday, but then decided, to hell with it. Louis had already seen him and laughed at him. What did he really have to lose?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally wasn't going to update until tomorrow, but I think it will be easier to update both of my stories on the same day, so I am changing the goal update day to Sundays! (It might not always happen, so if not, please don't hate me and I will update as soon as I can.)

***Harry***

In his strange state of half depression and half numbness, Harry almost forgotten that he had work that night. Thankfully, he remembered right on time.

Part of the deal he had to make with his parents in order to go to the dance school was to get a job and pay half of the rent for an apartment, as he didn't want to stay on campus and be paired with someone potentially awful. Harry agreed to the deal right away and, honestly, he was glad for it because being so busy kept his mind off of things; it kept his mind off of himself.

In his desperation to go to the school, Harry had applied everywhere within the vicinity. The irony of the situation was that the first place to offer him a job was a bakery.

Harry was often self-conscious at work, more so than usual, because, while he didn't eat the goods, no one would ever know that by looking at him, and he just knew the customers were probably disgusted with his apparent lack of self-control. Harry really didn't understand why he was so chubby, given how healthy he ate. He guessed it was just part of his fate. He didn't like it, but he was learning to accept it...Mostly...Sometimes.

Since Harry had remembered that he had work just in time to run out of his apartment, jump into his car and make it there on time by speeding, he hadn't had time to eat his regular dinner. He had managed to grab a banana on the way out the door, though was going to try not to eat it. He would probably eat at least a little dinner when he got back home and he didn't need that snack on top of it. He was doing pretty good, too. His stomach started growling only an hour into his shift, but Harry fought the hunger. He knew just what to think about when he started craving food (fat, fat, so much fat) and also just what to do when his stomach gave a rather loud growl, like clear his throat, or drum on the counter, or noisily set up supplies. He could make it to the end of the work day, he was sure of it.

Unfortunately, with only fifteen minutes left of his shift, Harry found himself getting that light-headed and shaky feeling that he got whenever his blood sugar dropped. If he didn't get something in his system, there was a high possibility that he would end up on the floor before he could make it out the door. Water wasn't enough (though he did try that, at first), so, sighing, Harry was left with no choice but to go to the back and grab his banana. He took it out front with him again, sure no one would come in with so little time left, but wanting to be prepared just in case.

Since all of his closing procedures that he could possibly get done at that point were already finished, Harry took his time in eating the banana, hoping that if he ate slow enough, his blood sugar would normalize before he ate the whole thing and he could toss out the rest.

He was only about halfway done when the bell at the top of the door dinged five minutes later, announcing someone's arrival. Harry fought to roll his eyes because only the worst people came in ten minutes before closing, he thought, but he smiled anyway and turned his gaze from the fruit in his hands to the customer. He felt a jolt go through his body when he saw that it was Louis. _The_ Louis. Louis T.

In his state of shock, excitement and panic, Harry had forgotten that he still had a chunk of banana in his mouth and nearly choked when he went to greet the customer. Luckily, he managed to swallow the food with only a mild cough and clearing of the throat and then, face turning red, he threw the rest of his banana in the trashcan.

“Don't worry,” Louis said, giving the bakery employee a smile. “I won't tell on you.”

Harry didn't mention that he wasn't ashamed of Louis finding him eating at work, but that he was ashamed he'd found him eating in general. He cleared his throat again.

“What can I get you?” he asked, voice thick, and ew. He was truly disgusting.

“That is a good question, Harry,” Louis told him, looking into the display bin of all of the items  that they still had available this late at night. Harry wondered for a moment how Louis knew his name, but then remembered that Ms. Gloria had used it earlier when he'd darted out of class. Louis continued, “It's my manager ' s birthday, but I can't get him a cake because he doesn't like icing.”

Louis rolled his eyes after that statement, but then smiled again.

“So what's good?”

Harry didn't know what was good from personal experience, of course, and he'd heard different things about all of their treats, but he wanted to be a good employee, so he glanced into the display and said the first item that came to his mind.

“The double fudge brownies are pretty good,” he said, and then felt his face grow even hotter. It was a bakery, so of course they didn't really have any particularly healthy choices, but he should have picked something with a bit smaller of a calorie count, at least.

Louis's smile widened.  _Of course you like the double fudge brownies_ , he was probably thinking.

“They do look good,” Louis agreed. “Okay, I'll take one. Actually, make that two.”

Harry rang the singer up, still blushing. The fact that he was blushing embarrassed him further, and probably caused him to blush even more. Harry wanted to disappear.

Since Louis had ordered two of the brownies, Harry had naturally assumed that one was for the singer, but after he was given his change, Louis took out one of the brownies and placed it on a napkin before scooting it to Harry.

“For you,” he said. “You know, since I caused you to throw away your banana.”

“You didn't have to do that, but thank you,” Harry said, finding the gesture kind even though he had no intention of eating the dessert.

Though their business transaction was done, instead of leaving, Louis leaned his front against the counter, his elbows resting on the surface and his hands clamped together.

“I'm sorry for coming in last minute,” he apologized. “I just figured it would be less busy and just...easier, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, it's totally okay,” Harry said because, suddenly, it was.

“That over there is my bodyguard, by the way,” Louis said, nodding to a big, burly man who was waiting, bored, by the door. “His name is Alberto.”

Alberto nodded and Harry gave a small wave.

“Alberto, this is Harry,” Louis said. “He's a student in the dance class I observed today. You did great by the way, Harry.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, even though he knew Louis was just saying that to be kind. Or maybe he was being sarcastic and Harry wasn't picking up on it. He didn't have time to really dwell on that dilemma,though, because his boss dropped something in the back, causing a  _clang_ loud enough to make Louis noticeably jump a little. He stepped away from the counter.

“I should probably let you get to closing up so you can go home,” he said.

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry said, though he wanted to tell Louis that he didn't really have to go if he didn't want to. (But why wouldn't he want to anyway?)

“Will you be in class on Wednesday?” Louis asked.

“Yeah, I'll be there,” Harry said.

“Good. I'll see you then, Harry.”

“Have a good night.”

“Thank you. You too.”

Louis reached in to his wallet for some more money to throw in the tip jar and then turned on his heel, following Alberto quickly from the shop. Harry let out a breath, his eyes traveling to the brownie Louis had bought him, sitting on that napkin and turning it slightly moist from the grease. Harry gagged a little, though had a strange urge to eat the dessert too because  _Louis_ had bought it for him. His long-t ime celebrity crush had bought him something!

Why couldn't Harry have worked in a flower shop instead, damn it?

Deciding to not throw it away just yet, Harry placed another napkin on top of the item and wrapped it up before finishing his closing chores and getting the okay to go home for the night.

Harry had just reached his car and unlocked it when his phone buzzed. After getting in and putting the wrapped brownie in his glove box, he checked his mobile to see that it was Liam that had texted him.

_Mate, I'm sooo drunk. Can you pick me up??? Pleeeeeasaee_

Harry replied that he would pick Liam up, of course, and after Liam had replied with the address of the place he was at, the dancer went on his way.

It ended up being a small, nicely decorated home that Liam was at, though when Harry arrived, he was sitting at the end of the driveway, smoking a cigarette. Harry wanted to tell him that smoking would likely end his dancing career prematurely, but decided not to start that conversation at that time. That wasn't what Liam needed right then.

“ Are you okay?” Harry asked after Liam had put out his cigarette and climbed into the other's passenger seat. 

“Yeah, jus' couldn't spend the night with Cal again,” Liam explained.

“Which one is Cal?” Harry asked as he began to drive again.

“Blonde fohawk guy. The bartender at that club we went to last week.”

“Ah, yeah,” Harry said, remembering. “I didn't realize you were still seeing him.”

“I'm not  _seeing_ him,” Liam snapped quickly. “I went to the club again and he was working, and there weren't very many good choices at the club tonight, so I just went home with him again. I couldn't stay, though, because he might think things are more serious than they are if I do.”

“So you just ran out while the guy was sleeping?”

“Yeah. So?”

“Do you like him?”

“He's a good fuck.”

Harry held in his sigh, keeping his eyes on the road as he reached blindly with one hand to open his glove compartment and fe lt around until he found the brownie.

“Eat this,” he instructed, both because Liam needed it and because it would get it away from Harry.

“Oooh, thanks, mate. You're so nice to me.”

“It's no problem,” Harry assured him as he closed his glove compartment.

Harry didn't like leaving Liam in his dorm while he was drunk, because it was no secret that he and his dorm mate didn't get along great as it was, so he took him back to his apartment, got him some water and then put him to bed as he went to wash up.

When he returned to his room, Liam's eyes were closed, but when Harry crawled in bed next to him, the drunk let out a loud yawn and rolled over, placing one arm over Harry's middle and burying his face into his shoulder. Even though Liam and Harry weren't super close, they had shared a bed before on multiple occasions and it wasn’t weird to them. It was kind of nice, actually, because Liam could get close to someone who wouldn't try to get in his pants and Harry could let someone touch him without worrying about what they would think when they felt all of his extra pounds. Liam wouldn't judge him for his weight or clumsiness, he knew, no matter the fact that he was so graceful and had a perfect body. Harry didn't know how he knew Liam wouldn't judge him, but he just did, and it felt good to be able to relax around somebody, at least when others weren't around to compare the two.

Harry woke the next morning to find that Liam was already gone. He'd left a note on the bedside table, reading,

_Har-bear,_

_Thanks for picking me up and being my handler last night. I owe you, mate! (Again.)_

_I had Mikey pick me up, so I didn't walk, don't worry. There's a cinnamon melt for you on your table. Talk to you later!_

_XXXLiamXXX_

Harry didn't know who this Mikey guy was, but he smiled, setting the note back down on his nightstand and getting out of bed to head to his kitchen. He smiled wider when he saw the cinnamon melt. Liam was so sweet and thoughtful, and Harry thought it was sad that he wouldn't let anyone else see that side of him.

Of course, Harry wasn't going to eat the cinnamon melt, but he couldn't bring himself to throw it away yet either, so he put it in one of his top cupboards before making himself a bowl of oatmeal.

Unfortunately, at dance school, there was more curriculum to do than just dancing, and Harry was in a very boring 'dance history' class when his phone started buzzing. He never put his phone on silent just in case of an emergency, but the only people who ever tried to get in touch with him were Liam and his family, all of whom knew his schedule and never contacted him during class, so when Harry saw Liam's name lit up on the phone screen, his heart picked up speed and he apologized as he rushed out of the classroom, answering his phone before he was even in the hall.

“Liam?”

“Harry!”

“What's wrong? Do I need to come get you?”

“Do you need to come get me? No, I'm too fucked up to go to class so I'm just nice and comfy in my bed, mate.”

“Liam...”

Harry trailed off and sighed. He and Liam were basically friends, sure, but he didn't think they were at the point in their relationship where Harry could scold him for getting 'fucked up' instead of going to class.

“Why did you call me?” he asked instead.

“Because you are in deep trouble, mister.”

“What? Why?”

“You didn't tell me that Louis T. was at your bakery last night, and while you were working, no less!”

“How do you know about that?”

“Look at his Twitter!”

“Okay, I'll look when we hang up...”

“No! Look now!”

Sighing quietly, Harry brought up his Twitter app and found Louis's page. The most recent tweet was a picture of a man, who Harry assumed to be his manager, blowing out a candle that was sitting on top of a double fudge brownie, and the caption underneath said, _Dean loved his double fudge brownie! Thanks Harry at @Paula'sBakery !_

Harry was blushing again.

“Well…?” Liam prodded when Harry said nothing.

“I mean, yeah, he was there, but he just bought a brownie for his manager and left,” Harry said. It was basically the truth.

“Are you going to fuck him?”

“What the hell?” Harry said. “No….”

“Why? He's gorgeous.”

“Yeah, but he's famous and, even if I did ever talk to him again, it's not like he would be interested.”

“I bet he already is. You're gorgeous too.”

“I'm not.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“Liam, _you_ haven't even tried to fuck me,” Harry pointed out. He kept his voice light, but the words were true. Liam hadn't tried to sleep with him, and he tried (and usually succeeded) in sleeping with every man that breathed in his general direction.

“Actually, when I started talking to you in dance class, my original intentions were to make love to you,” Liam said, “but you were so oblivious and thought I just really needed help with my posture and that was very charming in such an innocent way that I just couldn't corrupt you. And, well, now we're friends and if I had sex with you, we couldn't be friends anymore.”

“I have to get back to class,” Harry said, because that was easier than trying to find something to say in reply to Liam. So he did consider them 'friends,' then. Harry wasn't sure Liam would want to think of him in such close terms, and he'd also said 'made love' when referencing Harry instead of his usual 'fuck,' 'bang,' 'penetrate,' 'shag,' 'do,' or 'screw.'

“I can't believe you were that close to Louis,” Liam said.

“You will be too when he picks you for his dance team,” Harry said. Liam only laughed.

  


Louis arrived to the dance class late on Wednesday, after it had already started, and left early. Harry felt something, but he told himself that it wasn't disappointment. Why would it be? It wasn't like he had expected Louis to say anything to him. Besides, he had thought that the singer smiled at him once when their eyes met, but he was probably wrong about that too. He was sure Louis must have been looking at Liam or someone directly behind Harry, unless he was laughing at him again.

Harry spent the rest of dance class silently asking himself why he couldn't get better no matter how hard he tried, and why did he have to work so hard anyway when all of the moves came so naturally for most of the other dancers?

Thankfully, Harry was so busy between work and trying to perfect his dance routine for the recital that he had completely forgotten that Louis was supposed to be there on the big night.

“You don't have anything to worry about, baby,” his mom had said, spraying yet more hairspray into her son's hair, determined to get every single curly piece to stay down.

“I'm not worried,” Harry told her, even though he was a little bit. Logically, he knew it was too late to worry about it then. He couldn't get any more prepared. His fate for the night had been set.

“You look thin,” the woman replied. “Have you been eating?”

“Yes, mum,” Harry groaned.

“Have you been…?”

“No, mum. I haven't been purging.”

That one time about a week-and-a-half ago didn't count, and neither did the time he'd gotten curious and eaten half of the cinnamon melt that Liam had kindly bought him. They were special circumstances and he hadn't made it a habit, so he didn't feel as if it counted, not that he would tell his mother either way.

“Leave him be, Anne,” Harry's dad said, a warning edge to his voice.

“ I'm just making sure!” the woman defended.

“I'm fine. I promise,” Harry assured them all, kissing his mother on the cheek first, and then his sister, and, lastly, his dad.

Harry still didn't recall that Louis T. was in the audience as the recital went on, which was good, because if he had, he probably would have fallen on his face.

His routine went quickly, as they always did, but he felt pretty satisfied afterward. He could have done better, of course, because he could always do better, but he'd done much worse on different occasions, so he didn't feel too bad about himself and accepted the compliments from his family without arguing too much over them.

“I can't believe that was your last recital!” his sister, Gemma, exclaimed, pulling her brother into the third hug of the night. “Next time I see you dance, you're going to be a back-up for, like, some big-time singer or something.”

Harry huffed out a laugh, and he knew Gemma was just joking, but it was just then that he realized, oh yeah, Louis had been scheduled to be in the audience that night. He wondered if he'd shown up and, if he had, if he'd offered Liam a spot yet, and just as he pulled apart from his sister, his eyes landed on the very same singer standing a bit in the distance, looking over towards him and his family. His heart dropped to his stomach and, for just a moment, he got light-headed.

When Louis saw that Harry had noticed him, he smiled and began walking over. Alberto stayed back, but watched carefully. _Oh god, oh god, oh god_.

Harry wasn't naive enough to think that Louis was heading over to offer him a spot in his tour, but he had no clue why Louis would be heading over to him and his family, which made him even more nervous.

“Excuse me,” Louis said, for Harry's family had somehow not noticed their their son and  brother  had checked out from their conversation to stare at the approaching singer. All of them turned, and Louis's smile grew. “Hello!” he greeted. “I'm Louis.”

He shook all of their hands like he'd actually had to introduce himself to the three who were gaping at him, even Harry's father. Gemma looked as if she might faint. Harry thought it would be hilarious if she did and also make him feel a bit better about the embarrassing things Louis had seen him do. Not that he actually hoped she would faint, but still.

“I'm sorry to interrupt your family time, and I promise I won't keep Harry long, but would you mind if I borrowed him for just a minute or two?” the singer asked the family. None of them answered for what seemed like a long time, but really wasn't all that much, and then Gemma finally came halfway to her senses and shook her head, pushing her parents away quickly. Louis watched them go and then turned back to Harry, still smiling.

“Congratulations,” he began. “You did amazing tonight.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, of course not believing that for a second.

“Seriously, you were flawless,” Louis said. Harry fought off a frown. What kind of game was this guy trying to play?

“Thank you,” he said again anyway.

“Of course. So, Harry, I promised I wouldn't keep you from your family long, so I'm going to get right to the point.'

'I think you're great. You're so talented and I would love if you joined me on tour as one of the dance team.'”

Harry's mouth dropped open. All thoughts seemed to leave him. Louis's smile somehow grew still, but he stayed silent, waiting for Harry to come to his senses and give him an answer.

“Are you joking?” Harry asked once he had finally regained most of his thinking ability.

“Not at all. I would really love to have you on my tour.”

Harry fish-mouthed, which he was sure he would have time to be embarrassed about later.

“Why don't you offer it to one of the more talented dancers?” he managed to ask after a moment. “Why not Liam? Liam Payne? Um...he's about five-foot-ten, buff, big brown eyes-”

“I know who Liam is,” Louis assured Harry gently, “and he has a spot waiting for him too, but you are also very talented, Harry, and I really don't think the tour would be complete without you.”

Again, Harry didn't know what to say.

“You don't have to decide right now,” Louis said. “ Obviously, we still have a lot of talking to do.  Just think about it, alright? And when you decide...”

Louis reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper with an e-mail address on it.

“...Just send me an e-mail. If it could be within the next week or so, that would be great.”

Harry looked at the small slip of paper, feeling dizzy again.

“I hope to hear from you soon, Harry,” Louis spoke again. “And I hope your answer is yes.”

When Harry looked back up, the singer gave him another smile.

“Congratulations again and have a great night.”

Harry should have returned the sentiment, but he had apparently lost the ability to speak.

Louis turned on his heel and walked away.

“What in the bloody hell was that?” Gemma asked, grabbing Harry's elbow, and he jumped, not having heard them approach.

“Um…,” Harry said. Well, it was a start at least. Apparently it wasn't good enough, b ecause both his parents and  his  sister raised their eyebrows.

“Well?” Gemma prodded.

“He...uh...he offered me a spot on his tour as a dancer. _Obviously_ as a dancer...”

Gemma gave Harry a look much like he'd given Louis, but then she screamed. Luckily, it was loud backstage anyway.

“Harry, that's great! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh-my-gosh! Do you think you can get us free tickets sometime?”

“Gem, I don't think I'm actually doing it,” Harry said, trying to force out a laugh. It fell flat.

“What?! Why not?!”

“I'll humiliate myself! Did you see his dancers last time?! They were  _ amazing _ .”

“So are you!”

“No, not really.”

“Louis...oh my god, I can't believe I'm actually saying this...but he wouldn't have offered you a spot if he didn't think you were amazing too.”

Silently, Harry thought that Louis must be a sadist who liked to embarrass people. Out loud he assured his family that he would think about it and turned to put the paper with the singer's e-mail address (or maybe it was just a handler, Harry wasn't sure) in his dance bag.

“Well, anyway, change your clothes and meet us in the lobby,” Anne said. “We're going out to eat to celebrate!”

Harry swallowed against the strange feeling in his throat. He hated restaurants. They always used too much salt, too much cheese, too much...everything, and to top it off, his family never took him anywhere that had the calories listed in the menus and if they did by accident, Harry wasn't allowed to look, but was forced to listen as they read off the choices to him until he made his decision.

“That sounds great,” he told his mom anyway. They told him about where they would be waiting for him and left him to change. As Harry sifted through his things, trying to find his regular clothes, he took out that small slip of paper and gave it one last look. He knew he probably would never use it, but he decided to keep it for the time being, just in case.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tag was added, if those are important to you :)

***Liam***

Frowning at his reflection in the mirror, Liam readjusted his graduation cap and then looked down disdainfully at his robe. This was so not a good look for him and he didn't want this to be the last image everyone had of him, but then he realized that it probably wouldn't be because he was touring with Louis.

Liam knew it would be the modest thing to do if he said that he was surprised when Louis offered him the spot, but he wasn't. He had a way of getting what he wanted, and he had wanted that spot, damn it.

Still, not _everyone_ followed Louis's career, and for those individuals, this might be the last look they ever saw Liam in. He sighed at the thought, but his attention was drawn away from his own self-pity when he heard footsteps and , through the mirror, saw Harry walking towards him from behind.

“ Well, look how adorable you are!” Liam commented, and Harry did look absolutely precious. He pulled off the cap and gown much better than Liam did. He could definitely be in a graduation porn or something.

At the compliment, Harry just smiled, checking Liam over once himself and then helping him fix his collar.

“Are you nervous?” Liam asked. “Because you don't have to be. Great things will come to you, Harry, I know it.”

“I'm not nervous,” Harry said, “and even better things will come for you. I still can't believe that you didn't get a spot on Louis's tour!”

Liam hadn't yet told Harry about the offer he'd gotten because he knew how much Harry liked the singer (he got so excited every time his song would come on when they were at the club, and it was the closest thing to 'happy' that Liam ever saw the man) and he also knew that Harry was hypercritical of himself, so he didn't want him to feel bad about not being offered the spot that should have been his. Harry was so pretty and moved so naturally and elegantly. He was born to perform through dance. The fact that he hadn't been offered a place in the tour really did blow Liam's mind.

He was aware of the fact that he couldn't keep the secret from Harry forever, though, and so decided he might as well tell him now that Harry had brought the topic up.

“Actually, I did get offered a spot,” Liam admitted, his voice small, having to force himself to not look away from Harry because he didn't want to see the look of disappointment and self-hatred  that he sometimes saw  on his face.

Harry didn't look disappointed or upset at all, though. Instead, he beamed, his whole demeanor lighting up at the news.

“Liam, that's great!” he exclaimed, even bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet a little bit, clearly excited for his friend. “Why didn't you tell me?!”

Liam shrugged sheepishly. Harry pursed his lips and looked at him down the bridge of his nose, but then smiled again and fixed the tassel on Liam's cap.

“I actually got an offer too,” Harry admitted then, nonchalantly, like it was no big deal. Liam outwardly gasped.

“You got an offer for Louis's tour?!”

“Yeah.”

Liam's mouth was gaped open; not because he didn't think Harry would get an offer, of course, but because he thought he would have heard by now that he had. Oh well. No matter.

“That's awesome, mate!” Liam said. “I can't wait to tour the world with you!”

Harry gave yet another smile, but shook his head.

“I don't know if I'm going to do it,” he said.

“ Why the hell not?!”

“I'm not at the same level as everyone else,” Harry said, still speaking nonchalantly, though he had become obsessed with getting Liam's graduation robe as straight as he could. “I don't deserve it and I don't want to humiliate myself.”

“That's bullshit, Harry,” Liam sighed. “You're so good. You have to do it!”

“I don't know.”

“You're doing it.”

“I don't want to take the spot from someone who actually deserves it, Li.”

“Sweetie, you picked the wrong area of study if that's how you're going to feel with everything.”

“I'll just take a smaller role eventually. It will be fine.”

“No. That's stupid.”

Harry shrugged.

“You're doing the Louis tour, Harry.”

Harry laughed, giving his head another quick shake.

“Yes,” Liam argued still. “I will even leave Louis untouched so that you can screw him.”

“Yeah, like that would happen.”

“He's already tweeted about you! The next step is the bed. Or the shower, pla n e, back stage , tour bus, limo...Oh my god, I've always wanted to have sex in a limo. It's on my bucket list, actually.”

Harry rolled his eyes, though he didn't look completely unamused.

“Well, I'm sure Louis would love to have sex with you in a limo.”

“Nope. He's yours. I'll just take the other back-up dancers and the easy and desperate fans who can't get with Louis.”

“I'm not doing the tour.”

“You are.”

Harry opened his mouth, no doubt to tell him yet again that he was not doing it, but their argument was interrupted by the dean's voice telling them to quickly take their places in line.

“This isn't over,” Liam had said before hurrying to his spot so that he would have the last say.

  


The graduation ceremony was, unsurprisingly, boring. To entertain himself, Liam made a game of counting how many people he'd slept with during his year at that school. He'd only gotten to s ix before they started calling the 'P's' and  then  he lost track in the haste to get his diploma and get his robed self back to his seat. He thought s ix was an awfully low number, but he rationalized that he was only counting the people at that school and not the various club-goers and bartenders he'd had sex with that year.

Still, he was mildly disappointed in himself, but he didn't have time to dwell because he felt his phone buzz from his pocket and pulled it out to see a text from Mikey, some 27-year-old that was best friends with his dorm mate's brother  and who he had been sleeping with off and on for a  couple of months . He smiled.

_Meet me outside when you can_ , the text read.

_K,_ was all Liam replied. Honestly, he wanted to run out and find Mikey right then, knowing he had to have something much better than this stupid ceremony planned, but he didn't feel right leaving before he saw Harry get his diploma and, besides, it was good to make guys wait a little bit.

Once Harry had gone up to the stage, received his diploma and then sat back down, Liam hurried to the usher, said he didn't feel well, and then went outside. The building was large and Liam pulled out his phone before he'd even made it out the front doors, prepared to text Mikey and ask where exactly he was, but he didn't need to. The man was sitting on the top step b y the entrance,  smoking a cigarette and scrolling through his phone.

“ Hey,” Liam said to get his attention. Mikey glanced over his shoulder and then smiled, turning briefly to lock his phone and then slipping it in to his pocket as he stood. He had something else in his free hand and when the older man turned, Liam saw that it was flowers; a bouquet of roses, to be exact. His heart dropped.

“Hey, hot stuff,” Mikey said, walking towards Liam, who was suddenly frozen in  place, and giving him a kiss on the lips before forcing the flowers into his hands. 

“Um...thanks,” Liam said, giving the flowers a mildly reproachful look, but resisting the temptation to throw them on the ground.

“You're welcome,” Mikey said. “How is the ceremony going?”

“Pretty boring, honestly.”

“Yeah? Well, do you want to get out of here?”

“I can't,” Liam told him, and any other time he would be at least a little disappointed by the fact, but suddenly, he was grateful. “My aunt and uncle are here and they will kill me if I bail.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Mikey didn't look particularly disappointed either and gave Liam another smile and kiss.

“Hey,” he said then, taking Liam's free hand suddenly and kissing the top of that instead. Liam gave the man the same look he had given the flowers while resisting the urge to push him away.

“Yes?” Liam prodded when Mikey said nothing; just continued to press  faint  kisses onto the top of his hand.

“I need to ask you something.”

“What is it?”

“I know we have that party tonight and you're leaving the day after tomorrow, so I was wondering if, tomorrow night, you would like to go to dinner with me?”

Liam's eyes widened, and he panicked even more then. His heart was seriously about to beat out of his chest, and not in a good, happy way.

“I'm just not ready to say goodbye to you yet,” Mikey continued. “I know your body almost perfectly by this point, but I really want to get to know the rest of you too.”

“No,” Liam said when the last word was barely out of the other's mouth.

“No?”  Mikey repeated, looking nothing less than shocked. 

“I don't date,” Liam explained, and he was sure he let Mikey know of that fact beforehand. He always told the men he went to bed with that that was all that was going to happen; that they were never to get to anything beyond sex. It hadn't really been a problem for any of them before.

“Well...babe, we don't have to call it a date if you don't want to,” Mikey said. He still had a hold on Liam's hand, so the younger man drew it away.

“That's what it would be though; a date.”

“I like you, Li. Don't you like me too?”

“We were having sex, Mike. That's it.”

Mikey stared at Liam just long enough  for it to get awkward. 

“Wow,” he finally said.

“Just...no,” Liam stammered and, with a shake of his head, dropped the flowers  to the ground, turned on his heel and went back into the building and down to his seat.  The ceremony was almost over, but he resumed his earlier game of finding his past lovers amongst the men that were still up to walk. He counted two more.

Once the graduates were dismissed  to go b ackstage, Liam quickly found Harry and they went off in search of their families together, Liam shrugging out of his cap and gown the moment they were in the lobby.

The two first found Karen and Geoff, Liam's aunt and uncle who had taken custody of him when he was fifteen after his homophobic father had found out he was gay and kicked him out. Nicola and Ruth, Liam's slightly older cousins, were also with them, and they gave him embarrassing pinches on the cheek to go along with their congratulations. Sometimes Liam wished he had just run away.

It didn't take long after that for the group to find Harry's parents and sister, who gave the both of them congratulations as well.

“I need a pic ture of you boys!” Harry's mom, Anne, announced giddily, waving her camera in the air. Liam found it endearing that she still used an actual camera instead of just a phone. Harry, however, groaned.

“No, she's right,” Karen agreed. “Come on, let's go outside first. Liam, put your cap and gown back on.”

It was Liam's turn to groan then, but he obeyed.

“How should we pose?” Liam asked Harry teasingly once they were outside and found what, according to Anne and Karen, was the perfect spot.

“I don't know. I hate pictures,” Harry said, sounding a bit like a petulant child.

“Aww,” Liam cooed, and then pulled Harry into a tight side-hug, squeezing his friend tightly and placing a big, sloppy kiss on his cheek. Harry shrieked, but after giving the women a couple of moments to get a picture, Liam pulled away to see that the other man was smiling.

“Was that good?” Liam asked Anne and Karen.

“It better be because that's all they're getting,” Harry said.

“No, I need one of you and your sister,” Anne told her son, who groaned yet again.

“We'll get one later, at the restaurant,” Gemma said.

“Restaurant?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Karen spoke. “We all ran into each other before the ceremony began and decided it would be lovely to go out to eat together and celebrate!”

“Okay, but we can't be long,” Liam said. “I have to go shopping for this party tonight and I'm taking Harry with me.”

“Where are we going  to eat ?” Harry asked.

“It's up to you two,” Anne said. “It's your special day.”

“Pasta!” Liam decided right away.

  


If Liam was being honest, he found it a little strange that they were going out. His aunt, uncle and cousins were nice, and  they liked Liam well enough , but they never spent much time together. He was beginning to think they were regretting the decision only a few minutes into dinner anyway.

“Our waiter is really cute,” Liam commented, watching the guy walk away after they had put in their food orders.

“Back off, he's mine,” Ruth said.

“Yeah, he is probably straight,” Liam decided with a sigh.

“But the good news is, the bartender is equally a s cute and definitely not straight,” Gemma announced as she came back from the bar, setting one drink in front of Liam and another in front of Harry; her graduation present to them. “One of you need s to go make a move.”

The graduates looked at each other, each quirking an eyebrow, before Harry laughed, taking a small sip of his beverage.

“Go for it, mate,” he said.  Smiling, Liam downed at least a quarter of his drink before standing from his seat.

“Thanks for the drink, by the way, Gemma,” he said. She assured him that he was welcome and then Liam made his way to the bar, making sure to keep his posture straight and put just the right amount of sway in his hips. The bartender-who was really cute, Gemma was right-noticed him before he was even five feet within the bar and smiled. Liam returned the expression.  _He had this._

Ten minutes later, he returned to his seat with the bartender's number saved into his phone.

“So?” Gemma prodded when Liam ignored everyone's gazes and sat down to take a bite of his food, which had arrived in his absence. After swallowing that bite, he chugged the rest of his drink before shrugging and saying,

“Got his number.”

“You go, boy,” Gemma congratulated him, reaching across the table to high-five her brother's friend. Meanwhile, Karen and Geoff noticeably sighed.

“You're a slut,” Nicola commented. “I thought you were talking to a guy named Bradley?”

“Bradley was, like, three boyfriends ago,” Harry spoke up. The three younger girls laughed, but Liam was quick to cut in.

“They aren't boyfriends!”

“'Tis why you're a slut, baby brother,” Nicola said, pinching his cheek. Liam turned and bit her hand gently.

“I'm not your brother,” he reminded her.

“I'm hurt,” the woman said with false betrayal in her voice. “We took you in and you won't even claim us?”

Liam rolled his eyes, and luckily Karen spoke up to tell her daughter that this was not the appropriate time to talk about that. Liam went to the bar to order himself another drink. He got it for free.  He pretended to be surprised  and promised to tip the bartender, Alex, very well later. He even threw in a wink and everything. Sometimes, Liam loved himself, which was good since no one else would.

Even with all of his trips to the bar, Liam still finished his meal before Harry, but waited patiently for him, despite the fact that he really wanted to get to the mall and find an outfit while he was still feeling confident from his success with Alex. Harry stopped at about halfway through his course, though, and placed his napkin on his plate to show Liam that he was finished.

“Are you ready to head to the mall?” Liam asked him.

“Yeah, just let me use the toilet real quick,” Harry said, standing from his chair and excusing himself as he brushed by his father. A noticeable silence fell over  Harry's family suddenly and all three of them turned their heads and watched as Harry walked away. Finally, Liam thought he saw Anne nudge her husband and he stood, following Harry to the restroom. It was all kind of strange, really, but Liam didn't think about it much.

“Okay, are you ready?” Harry asked Liam when he returned a couple minutes later, standing behind his chair instead of sitting in it.

“Ready,” Liam assured him, getting to his feet.

“How are you boys planning on getting to the mall?” Anne asked.

“Cab,” Liam said.

“You're always running off somewhere,” Nicola said. It almost sounded like she was whining, but Liam knew she didn't actually care, so he just winked  and,  moving stealthily, swiped her alcoholic beverage from the table, chugging it despite her protests. When he placed the empty glass back  in front of her , she threw a straw wrapper at him.

“Okay, leave now,” Ruth said. “The cute waiter is coming back.”

“Get his digits,” Liam told her, taking a sip from her drink as well before turning and following Harry out of the restaurant. Of course, he turned to smile enticingly at Alex the Bartender as he passed, and smirked to himself when  Alex proceeded to drop the shot glass he was cleaning.

“Should I invite him to the party tonight?” Liam asked as he and Harry stepped out into the warm spring air. Liam fell to the side a bit and Harry grabbed onto his arm. Liam giggled. “Sorry,” he said. “I'm a bit buzzed.”

Harry ignored that last statement.

“I thought you were bringing Mikey to the party?” he asked.

“Oh, I'm done with Mikey,” Liam said, shaking his head as if that could make the memories of what happened between them earlier disappear. Instead, it just made him a bit dizzy.

“What happened?” Harry asked.

“Nothing.”

“Liam, come on.”

“He fucked up.”

“How?”

Liam sighed.

“He wanted to take me to dinner.”

“He wanted to take you to dinner to make up for messing up or…?”

“No. Wanting to take me to dinner was how he fucked up.”

“I don't understand,” Harry said, his eyebrows pulled together to show that he truly didn't. Liam sighed again.

“We were supposed to be fuck buddies,” he explained. “I really liked Mikey too, but he had to go and ruin it.”

“If you liked him, I think you would want to go to dinner with him, Liam.”

Liam shrugged, stepping forward to hail a cab and leaving the conversation like that .

It didn't take them long to get a cab and Liam hadn't even been trying to hit on the driver, but he had his number by the end of the ride. Again, he promised to tip him well later.

“I feel like that's a form of prostitution,” Harry commented.

“Sometimes, you do what you have to do,” Liam said.

“I guess.”

The two walked silently into the mall.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Liam asked when they reached the front doors, opening it and holding it for Harry.

“Thank you. And no, you're fine, Liam. I mean, I hope you're fine...”

“I'm great, Harry.”

“Good. I'm going to the bathroom. I'll be right back.”

“Didn't you just go before we left the restaurant?”

“I have a weak bladder.”

“Alright, old man.”

Harry smiled, not bothered. Liam told him what store to meet him in and then went on his way.

  


It took an hour, but, finally, Liam found the perfect outfit; a black crop top that showed enough of his abs to tease, but kept enough hidden to stir up the imagination, a tight black jacket and faded black skinny jeans with boots. Liam thought Alex the bartender and/or George the cab driver would appreciate it.

While shopping, Liam had tried to convince Harry to get a new outfit as well. He'd even offered to buy it for him (his mom had sent him a lot of graduation money, a.k.a. guilt money), but Harry insisted  that  he already had the outfit he wanted to wear picked out at home. 

  


Liam ended up not inviting anyone to the party, but promised Alex he would stop by later. He never texted George, figuring he would squeeze him in sometime, but in the mean time, it wouldn't kill him to wait. When he asked Harry if he could drop him off at Alex's on the way home from the party, he could tell that he didn't really want to, but he agreed anyway.

Harry was such a good friend.

***Harry***

Harry didn't really expect to have fun at the party. He figured it would be the same as the times he and Liam went to clubs, where Liam would get drunk and run off for bathroom blow jobs or disappear completely with someone while Harry tried to stay invisible and wait for his friend's return, but, while Liam went off a couple of times, he was never gone long. Besides, a guy that Liam had had a fling with once or twice; Stefan, his name was, found Harry during one of the times he was alone and brought him along for shots and beer pong. Stefan was nice. Harry kind of wished something more came from his and Liam's affair. Of course, he kind of wished something more would come from any of Liam's affairs if it meant the guy would stop setting himself up to be murdered or at least given an STD.

Liam always told Harry he worried too much, but Harry didn't mind because worrying about Liam kept him from worrying about himself.

Harry didn't drink too often due to the calories and such, but he would sometimes let himself and just make up for it later. Even Harry had to have fun sometimes.

By the time Liam came back from his second rendezvous, Harry was a bit past 'tipsy' and he insisted that his friend watch how amazing he was at beer pong. When Harry missed, he assured the other man that he was better just a couple of minutes ago.

“I'm sure you were,” Liam had said, ruffling Harry's hair. “It's nice to see you compliment yourself, you know,” he added.

“Don't get used to it,” Harry said with what was supposed to be a wink. Liam laughed and grabbed a can of beer for the both of them.

After a couple hours of intense alcohol-related games, Liam flirting, and the both of them just drinking in general, Liam started to gag and so Harry quickly took him outside to cool off. He seemed to feel better almost immediately and began dancing to the song that was blaring from the speakers. Harry watched, smiling and sipping on what he swore was going to be his last drink.

“Oh my god!” Liam screeched when the next song came on; something by Louis T. He began all but humping the air and Harry literally cackled.

“You should do that on the tour,” he said. “It will make your slut legendary-ness at least three times easier than it already is.”

Harry was well aware that legendary-ness wasn't a word. He was also aware that he didn't care.

“I would, but I wouldn't want you to have an oopsie in your tight little dance uniform onstage,” Liam said, sticking out his tongue childishly, but then turning it into something sexual by licking his finger and rubbing his nipple. Harry laughed about that until his side hurt.

“I'm not doing the tour, though,” he said once he'd regained his composure.

“But you have to!”

“I don't know...”

“No, Harry! You have to!” Liam insisted. “You deserve it.”

Harry wanted to tell Liam that he really, really didn't, but now that he thought about it, he realized that he did. He'd told himself that if he lost seven pounds by next week then he would do the tour. It had only been two days, but he'd lost three pounds, and that was pretty awesome of him, if he said so himself.

“You know what? I do deserve it!” he said.

“Yes!” Liam screamed, halting his dance to pump a fist in the air excitedly.

“I'm going to e-mail Louis right now,” Harry decided.

“Yes!” Liam screamed again, even louder,  as his other fist flew into the air .  Hands still up, he began to swing his hips.

Smiling widely, Harry pulled his phone from his back pocket, opened his e-mail app and typed out what he thought to be,

_To whom it may concern,_

_I would love to go on the Louis tour as a dancer. Thank you._

_Love,_

_Harry Styles_

He showed Liam. Liam told him it was perfect, so Harry sent it. Then, Liam screamed yet again and pulled Harry into a hug.

“We're going to be tour mates!” he exclaimed excitedly. Harry hugged his friend back, laughing uncontrollably again. He was just in such a good mood. He was reaching his goal weight, was drunk as all hell, and was going on a worldwide tour, doing what he loved to do, with his best friend...and Louis Tomlinson.

  


 

 


	4. Chapter 4

***Louis***

Louis checked his e-mail one last time before calling it a night. He didn't actually expect to have an e-mail from Harry, as he was losing hope that he would get an e-mail from Harry at all. Not everyone agreed to his tours right away, of course. It was a big commitment, but the ones who did decide to take the offer usually e-mailed back within twenty-four hours if they were going to do it, according to his tour manager. Typically, it was his tour manager that dealt with the dance crews, band and other groups of people they needed to set up and put on a show. No one, after the casting process, ever talked directly to Louis again until tour started. That was, until Harry showed up.

What it was exactly that caused Louis to be so drawn to Harry was unclear to the singer. Yeah, Harry was beautiful, graceful and altogether captivating, but that could be said about many others that Louis had come across in his time in the music industry as well, though Louis thought that Harry might be more beautiful than any other, to be honest. He was real. Most people with that natural charm knew that they had it and used it to their advantage. There was no shame in that, but Louis could already tell from the little interaction he'd had with Harry that he was not like that, which only made Louis want to get to know the guy more.

Louis barely looked when he opened his e-mail, certain that nothing would be there anyway. It was only as he closed his browser that he noted one line much darker than the others, like it was bold-faced. That, of course, meant that Louis had an unread message.

It probably wasn't Harry, Louis told himself, but he clicked on his internet icon again, quickly, nearly holding his breath as he logged into his account. His eyes widened when he saw that there was, in fact, an unread message from someone with the username _harry.styles.94._

Maybe it still wasn't the Harry he was hoping for. Even though he probably should have, Louis didn't know his last name, (maybe 'styles' wasn't even the last name), but he felt like the name would fit the beautiful dancer. He took a minute to brace himself for disappointment and then clicked on the message with no subject.

  


_To whom it may concern,_

_I would love to go on the Louis tour as a dancer. Thank you._

_Love,_

_Harry Styles_

  


As Louis had only offered one Harry a spot on his tour as a dancer, he was left with the conclusion that it was the man he'd wanted it to be and he found himself grinning widely, both because he was happy over that fact, but also because of the message itself. Either Harry was just as awkward (in the cutest way) even over e-mail or he was partying on the hard side that night. Given the time of nearly two in the morning, Louis guessed the latter to be the most correct option.

He typed out his reply.

_Harry,_

_I am so happy to hear from you, and even happier that your answer is yes! Would you be able and willing to meet my managers and me on Wednesday? Please reply and we will pick a time and place that works for everyone. I'll hear from you soon!_

_Love,_

_Louis_

After sending the message, Louis went to bed, still smiling.

He was not smiling when he woke up, at least, but that quickly changed when he took his phone from the nightstand, opened his e-mail and saw that Harry had replied to him with a 'yes.'

  


The next day, Wednesday, Louis found himself a bit nervous as he waited in the cafe they had agreed to meet at. He and his two managers were there. The only person missing was Harry. They still had fifteen minutes until their agreed-upon meeting time, so maybe Louis shouldn't be nervous, but he couldn't shake the fear that Harry was going to change his mind. And why was he so afraid of that happening anyway? Harry was a great dancer, and yeah he was one of the most attractive ones he'd ever had, but he wouldn't make or break the tour. People enjoyed the back-up dancers, but if Louis had to pick someone who was still good, just maybe a little less elegant or, less well..hot, his tour would survive.

He needn't have worried though. Harry showed up five minutes later-still ten minutes early- holding a water bottle and with his hair in its typical bun. Louis wondered if he had been practicing dance before he got there.

“Hey, Harry, over here,” Louis called, not too loudly as to bring a lot of attention to the group, but loud enough to get the attention of the person he needed. Harry looked over and, after giving everyone already sitting there a nervous glance, he walked to the table, where Dean told him to have a seat by him, across from Louis. The poor guy looked so riddled with anxiety. Louis gave him a reassuring smile, but was sure it didn't help much. As Harry wasn't even making eye contact, Louis wasn't even sure he saw it anyway.

“How are you?” Louis continued speaking.

“I'm fine,” Harry answered, looking towards Louis, yet not in his eyes. “How are you?”

“I'm great. This is my tour manager, Beatrice, and my main manager, Dean. Beatrice and Dean, this is Harry.”

“The brownie guy,” Dean noted with a smile. Harry returned the smile, but scratched nervously at his ear.

“Before we begin, Harry, would you like anything to eat?” Louis asked after the three had finished their greetings.

“No, thank you,” Harry replied.

“What about to drink?”

“This is fine,” Harry said, brandishing his water bottle around a bit.

“Alright. Time to get down to business then?”

Beatrice nodded in affirmation, studied her notepad for just a few brief moments and then began talking to Harry about the important aspects of his duties if he were to go through with the tour, such as the tour dates, dancer responsibilities, privacy policies, payment and other perks. Harry listened, but his leg was bouncing the whole time, his fists resting underneath his chin.

_He's not going to do the tour_ , Louis repeated to himself what seemed like a thousand times during the meeting. The man was already far too nervous and, having been as hesitant as he was before, Louis really could not see him taking the job offer when it was all said and done.

That was exactly what Harry did though, and a flood of relief coursed through Louis.

“We'll have to meet up one more time so you can sign your contract,” Louis said to Harry as they all stood to leave. “I'll get in contact with the lawyer first so that he can be there to assure you that we aren't throwing you to the dogs or anything.”

“Oh, yeah, okay,” Harry said with an awkward shrug. He was just so adorable. How was it possible to be adorable and sexy at the same time?

“Do you have any free time tomorrow?” Louis asked then.

“Yeah, I'm free all day.”

“Great. I'll call the lawyer as soon as I get in the car and e-mail you right back, alright?”

“Okay.”

Finally, now that they were out of the booth and Louis was slipping on his jacket, Harry made eye contact with the singer, who smiled at him again.

“Don't be nervous,” he tried. “We're going to have a fantastic time.”

Harry smiled, though it was clear that Louis's words hadn't really done much to sooth his worries. Louis hadn't really expected them to, of course.

“Do you need a ride anywhere?” Louis said next.

“No, I'm okay, but thanks.”

“You're welcome. I'll see you, probably tomorrow, then.”

Harry nodded and, after just another brief grin, Louis left with Beatrice and Dean close behind him.

  


***Harry***

He couldn't believe that he actually did it. He agreed to the tour. Technically, he agreed twice. What was wrong with him?

It wasn't too late yet, Harry knew. He hadn't signed a contract, but now, after everyone went through all of this trouble for him, he also knew that he couldn't back out. It was actually official. He was going on tour with Louis T.

Not all of his feelings about the situation were bad. He was excited too; not just nervous and ashamed. He knew he would make a fool of himself and maybe even of Louis, but, still, he was excited.

All of those emotions were too much. Shaking his head, Harry left the cafe, where he had been standing, alone, for a questionable amount of time, and jogged the seven miles home.

Once he finally reached his apartment and caught his breath, Harry checked his phone to see a missed call from Gemma. It was from over a half an hour ago, but he figured a few more minutes wouldn't hurt her and washed the sweat off of his body and changed clothes before calling his sister back.

“Did you do it?!” she asked in means of a 'hello.'

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I did it.”

Gemma shrieked.

“I'm so proud of you, baby brother!” she said, and Harry was pretty sure her voice broke. He closed his eyes because, no. He couldn't deal with that.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice not quite normal either. Luckily, Gemma's voice had at least steadied by the time she spoke again.

“Not to be a downer, but dad wants me to ask you if you're sure all of this is a good idea.”

_No_ , Harry said in his head.

“Yeah, I'm sure,” he said out loud.

“And you're really okay, Harry?”

“I'm fine!” Harry said, a bit snappier than he'd intended, but the question grew very frustrating after answering it so many times and nothing changing no matter what he said. “Why doesn't anyone believe me?!”

“Hey, calm down,” Gemma said, being a strong enough person to not raise her voice in return. “I was just checking. I thought you would rather have this talk with me than with mum.”

“Sorry.”

“It's okay.”

“I'm fine. I love you.”

“I love you too, baby bro.”

Their phone call ended after that and, for the first time since arriving home, Harry checked the time. It was only three o' clock. He sighed and leaned his head back against the couch as his stomach growled. He still had an hour and a half until he could eat his second bowl of oatmeal for the day, which would also be his last meal until breakfast tomorrow.

To pass the time, Harry danced.

He crashed early that evening, as his dinner didn't do much to satisfy his hunger, but luckily, he remembered to check his e-mail before crashing. He already had a message from Louis, stating the time and place they were to meet tomorrow.

Setting his alarm clock to leave him plenty of time to get in his morning exercise, Harry fell asleep at seven o' clock.

  


Harry only had to wait about three minutes in the lobby of the suite where Louis's main manager, Dean, worked, before the secretary led him back to the room where Dean, Beatrice, Louis and a man in a suit who Harry assumed to be the lawyer were sitting. He didn't really think about it too hard anyway because, out of all of those people, the only person he really saw was Louis. He was dressed in red. That was definitely his color.

Louis gave Harry one of his breathtaking smiles and Harry returned it a little more genuinely that time. He no longer thought Louis's smile was to mock him. It might have held sympathy, but Harry supposed that was a little better.

“Hello, Harry. Have a seat, please,” Dean instructed. Harry nodded, looking towards the ground and tucking a piece of hair behind his ear as he took the only seat that was still available. Unfortunately, it was far away from Louis.

“I like your hair down,” Louis commented, and it took Harry a moment to realize that he was talking to him.

“Oh,” he said, shocked when he looked up to see everyone's eyes on him. “Thank you.”

Okay, maybe that was a little mocking, but Harry swallowed against the lump in his throat and decided to worry about that later.

The lawyer spent nearly forty-five minutes explaining the contract in full detail to Harry, who listened intently even though it was all a little overwhelming.

“Do you have any questions?” the man asked Harry as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose after he'd finished.

“No,” Harry answered.

“Are you _sure_ , Harry?” Louis asked. The dancer nodded.

Once the contract was signed (Harry's hands were shaking just a little as he moved the pen and he hoped it wasn't noticeable,) the others stood, signaling the end of the event. Harry got to his feet as well. Beatrice and the lawyer made their way out the door, but Louis took a few steps closer to Harry, who could feel his cheeks growing hot.

“I'm planning something for the tour crew, including the dance team, soon, so that we can all get to know each other and whatnot. I'll be in touch,” he said. Then, he shook Harry's hand like it was the first time they'd met and not the sixth. Not that Harry was counting.

As soon as their hands touched, Louis gasped.

“Bloody hell, I thought _my_ hands were always cold, but yours are freezing!” he said, putting Harry's two hands together and beginning to rub them with his own. Harry grew a bit dizzy.

“You could have asked us to turn down the air,” Louis continued.

“I'm just always cold,” Harry said.

“We'll get along well in terms of heat then,” Louis said. He let go of Harry's hands and the dancer quickly put them back down to his side.

“Well, I guess I'll let you get out to your car, where you can maybe get warm,” Louis told him. “Actually, I'll walk you out, if you're ready.”

Harry nodded, swallowing subtly, both nervous and excited again.

“Bye, Dean!” Louis called with a brief wave as he turned and exited the room. The other man said goodbye to the both of them as Harry quickly followed the singer.

He was glad that, as they walked, they fell in step comfortably with each other. Harry didn't want to walk too slow and showcase just how out of shape he actually was, but he also didn't want to quicken his pace a lot and get out of breath.

“Where is your car?” Louis asked once the two had reached the parking garage.

“Oh, I walked, actually,” Harry said, wondering why he had allowed himself to follow Louis to the parking garage like a weirdo when he didn't need to go there at all.

Louis raised an eyebrow.

“You live that close?” he asked.

“About four blocks away, so not too bad.”

“That's too far to walk,” Louis said. “I'll drive you home.”

“Oh, thanks, but you don't have to. I'm really fine.”

“Harry, it's pouring.”

Pausing to strain his ears and listen, Harry realized that Louis was right.

“I'm not a threat, I promise,” Louis assured the other, who blushed.

“No, it's not that,” Harry said. “A ride home would be great if it's not too much trouble.”

“Not at all! I'm this way.”

Harry followed Louis to his car, the newest model of the Escalade, unsurprisingly, and Louis even opened the door for him; probably because he didn't want anyone else touching his car, especially Harry's greasy fingers.

“How long have you been dancing?” Louis asked after a couple minutes of driving in silence, besides for him telling Harry that he could adjust the heat and air as he wished.

“Seventeen years,” Harry answered. “So since I was three.”

He mentally slapped himself at that last statement because Louis hadn't asked.

“Wow,” the singer commented. “I guess that's why you're so good. Well, that and natural talent, of course.”

Harry didn't say anything, unsure of how to reply since he didn't know exactly how to read that comment, so he just messed with his ear.

“What other hobbies do you have?” Louis questioned next.

“None, really,” Harry answered.

“Yeah, I get that,” Louis assured him when Harry didn't go on. “Singing always took up all of my time.”

Harry nodded and then belatedly smiled when Louis glanced over at him. Louis, of course, smiled back. Not for the first time, Harry noticed how much more beautiful Louis was in person than in pictures. He didn't know how that was even possible because he was pretty damn attractive in basically every single picture, but it was true.

When Louis looked over again, Harry realized he was staring and looked away quickly.

“Sorry,” he said.

“That's okay,” Louis assured him.

They finished the drive in silence, except for Harry giving directions.

Once they reached Harry's apartment, the dancer thanked the singer for the ride and hurried in with Louis's umbrella which the singer insisted he take. (He refused to unlock the door to his car until Harry agreed to use it and Harry pretended like he couldn't just flip the lock himself.)

Once inside, Harry watched the clock on his phone for three minutes. Figuring Louis was a good distance away by then, Harry turned right back around and went outside for a thirty minute jog.

While jogging, he thought of Louis.

When Harry got home, he noticed with dread that he'd forgotten to turn the calorie tracker on his phone on, which meant, naturally, that he had to do the jog again. He had to be serious about his fitness now that he was a professional dancer and was going to be on stage in front of millions of people and with the man he'd had a crush on for years…

Those thoughts had Harry panicking and he was left with no choice but to slow down as he started coughing. If he'd had anything in his system, he probably would have thrown up right there on the side of the road, but, luckily, he didn't.

It only took Harry a couple of minutes to pull himself together and finish his jog.

When he stepped back into his apartment, his legs were shaking, and the rest of his body was too, from the cold. It felt like there were knives in his lungs, and the room was starting to turn a slight shade of blue.

Kicking his wet shoes off, Harry made his way to the bathroom where he collapsed in the tub, his clothes still on. After a minute, he closed his shower curtain and turned on the hot water.

He wished Louis was there to warm him up again.

  


***Liam***

Liam almost peed himself as there was a loud _bam_ from his bedroom door back at home being flung open and hitting the wall to allow Nicola and Ruth's entrance. More accurately, he almost spilled his bottle of whiskey, but that would have been equally as traumatic.

“Jeez!” he breathed once he had found his voice again. “Haven't you heard of knocking?!”

He took a swig from his whiskey bottle, thinking that the girls were worse than his dorm mate back at school. He had at least stayed far away from Liam's 'sex dungeon.' (The guy was awfully homophobic for a straight guy at a dance school, Liam thought. He was probably only there for the girls; horny pervert.)

“You're drinking alone,” Nicola observed instead of answering her cousin's question.

“So?”

“You're on your bed...in the dark...drinking alone.”

“It's not completely dark,” Liam reasoned. “The blinds are partially open.”

Nicola shook her head.

“No,” the older woman said to her younger sister. “We aren't doing this.”

“Doing what?” Liam asked, taking another drink from his bottle. Nicola made a grab for the alcohol, but Liam yanked it away and downed the rest of it quickly, just to be safe. Afterward, he burped loudly, giving himself an eleven out of ten.

“Attractive,” Nicola said. Liam smiled, his nose scrunched up adorably, in his personal opinion.

“We have a mission for you,” Ruth said to the man. Liam sat up straighter.

“Go on,” he urged.

“A fairly attractive homosexual man just moved in across the street,” she said.

“Boring,” Liam said with a fake yawn that turned into a real one. Once he'd recovered, he said, “That's not even a challenge.”

“But he moved in with his partner,” the girl continued. Liam raised a curious eyebrow.

“So what's the mission?”

“You need to go land yourself a threesome!”

“I've never had a threesome before,” Liam said, stroking his chin as he pondered the possibility. Why not, he finally decided after two seconds. “I bet I could pull it.”

The guy tried to stand, but Nicola pushed him gently back onto the bed.

“No,” she said.

“Come on, Nic, don't be a killjoy,” Liam said.

“Have some respect for yourself, Liam,” she responded.

“I do respect myself,” Liam said. “I love myself.”

“What about trying a dating site if you're lonely?”

“I'm not lonely,” Liam said. “And I would have to go on at least one date with a dating website, and I don't date.”

Nicola sighed.

“What happened to the nine-year-old boy who sent me an invitation for his wedding with the new kid in his class?”

“He got the shit beat out of him one too many times. I don't think he's alive anymore.”

Even Ruth seemed to sober up at that statement, her amused smile quickly changing to a frown.

“Liam,” Nicola said with a warning tone to her voice as the man stood and gently brushed by her.

“Get out,” he said. “I need to change.”

The girls didn't move.

“I'm getting naked no matter what,” Liam said, loosening the strings on his sweatpants. His cousins quickly hurried out. Smiling to himself, Liam hurriedly changed into a pair of form-fitting blue jeans and a tight white t-shirt, as it was raining outside.

“Liam, wait a minute,” Karen called from the kitchen when she heard her nephew coming down the stairs. “It's almost dinner time.”

“I'm not hungry,” Liam called, making his way to the front door.

“Liam,” Geoff said. Sighing, Liam stopped, his hand on the doorknob, and he turned to face the approaching man.

“Stay and eat with us,” Geoff said.

“I'm not hungry.”

“Well, you need to eat something, regardless.”

The man was walking closer. Liam found himself pressed against the door so that the knob was jamming him in the lower back painfully, but he still managed to smirk as he said,

“I'm planning on going out and getting a couple of hot dogs tonight.”

From the walkway in between the living room and the kitchen, the three women in the house gasped, though Liam thought Ruth's was more of a hidden laugh. Geoff noticeably cringed at the words.

“We don't need that kind of talk in here,” he said. “That's disgusting, Liam.”

Just like that, Liam's fear changed to anger and he pushed himself away from the door, coming nearly face-to-face with his uncle.

“I know!” he shouted, and the older man shrunk back. “I know I'm disgusting! I'm a fucking faggot whore, and I _know_ that, but I never asked you to keep me!”

“You did, actually, when you called me crying from a gas station!” Geoff said, his face turning red as he, too, grew angry.

“Well that was a dumb move on my part!” Liam said, and then gasped as Geoff grabbed his arms and backed him against the door again. The girls gasped even louder, Karen crying her husband's name, but being ignored.

“If you want to be ungrateful like that, then maybe we should kick you out too!” he said.

“Geoff, we're not kicking him out! Let go of him!” Karen said. Liam thought she might be crying but he wasn't taking his eyes off of his uncle to check.

“Go ahead and kick me out!” Liam said. “I have a job starting soon anyway and until then, I'll make more money as a hooker on the streets than any of you ever will!”

“You're drunk,” Geoff noted, studying the younger guy's face intently. “You're just like your mother, Liam.”

“And you're just like you're brother,” Liam retorted. He definitely heard Karen cry out then.

“Geoff, let go of him!”

Geoff had already pulled his hands away from Liam at those words, though. Liam's uncle and father were fraternal twins, but looked exactly the same except for the placement of their individual birthmarks, but, personality-wise, the brothers were polar opposites and they couldn't stand each other.

“Don't compare me to that homophobic, psychotic son-of-a-bitch,” he warned.

“Then don't compare me to that drunk bitch that can't do anything by herself! I don't need a guy like she did! I don't need anyone!”

With that, Liam turned on his heel and left the house, slamming the door behind him. Part of him wanted to cry, but he shut that part down quickly. Liam Payne didn't cry; not anymore.

After taking just a couple of moments to compose himself, Liam put his well-practiced enticing smile on his face and began walking across the street, where there was a guy pulling boxes from a moving van. By the time he reached the man, he was already soaked from the rain; his tight white shirt showing off all of his muscles.

“Hello!” he called cheerily. The guy glanced over his shoulder and then turned again for just a moment to pull the box out from the vehicle. “Do you need any help?” Liam asked, sticking his hip out a bit and running a hand through his dripping wet hair. The stranger looked him up and down a couple of times.

“Okay,” he finally said. “Grab a box.”

_So demanding_ , Liam thought, but did as he was told and followed the man into his new house. About halfway up the path, his aunt and uncle's new neighbor stopped, allowing Liam to go ahead of him. Liam could feel him staring at his ass as he walked. Suddenly, it was good to be home...Or whatever this place was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real life Harry might have cut his hair, but AU dancer!Harry has not ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this a little early because I won't have internet access for most of Sunday! I hope you enjoy :)

***Liam***

Surprisingly, the threesome was a bit of a challenge to land. The first of the two men that Liam met, Elijah, was clearly super into the idea from the start, but his partner, Rhys, was reluctant.

“I don't know, babe,” he'd said when Elijah made his and Liam's intentions known. “I haven't touched anyone but you for seven years now.”

“But we always thought about trying it out when we were younger,” Elijah had reasoned. “I know it hasn't really been brought up for a while, but come on. The opportunity is right here; ready and willing.”

Rhys had studied Liam intently then. Liam gave his best smoldering look and, finally, Rhys sighed in defeat.

“I'm going to need a drink for this,” he said. “Liam, do you want one?”

Liam was still feeling his whiskey from earlier quite heavily, but he wasn't going to turn down a free drink. Or three, which it turned out being.

Due to the amount of alcohol he consumed, Liam wasn't all present for the trio's rendezvous, but he guessed he still performed pretty well because each guy wanted a couple of turns with him. Liam knew he was really going to pay for this later, once the alcohol wore off, but he didn't really care right then, and he passed out as soon as Rhys and Elijah rolled over, signaling that their fun was over.

The sound of a doorbell pulled Liam partway back into the real world. Was he back at Geoff and Karen's again? Was it even the same day? He wasn't sure, but he wasn't too concerned, and he concentrated on trying to fall back to sleep when a voice carried through the empty house and up the stairs. The voice sounded like it belonged to Liam's father.

“Where is my son?” it asked, and for a moment, Liam wanted to scream, but then he rationalized that he was probably just in a deeper sleep than he was aware of and thus on the brink of a nightmare. His father hadn't talked to him in nearly six years, so there was no way he was going to come looking for him now.

Muffled voices followed the older man's words and Liam couldn't understand what they were saying, but given that he'd already concluded he was dreaming, he didn't try all that hard to make them out. It wasn't like it was important, as he wouldn't remember any of this when he woke anyway.

Liam was just about to slip over the edge to full sleep when he felt a hand on his shoulder and bolted upright, gasping. His head spun and his stomach lurched, and all of it was only made worse when he saw that his dad was sitting in front of him.

Letting out a small scream, Liam scooted back as far as he could against the head of the bed, telling the other to go away and leave him alone.

“Liam, relax,” the older man said. “It's me; it's Geoff.”

Geoff. Of course. That made sense. How could Liam be stupid enough to think it would be his father?

The dancer became dizzy again as pure relief flooded through him. He almost cried. Almost, but, of course, Liam didn't cry, not even when drunk.

“Do you have anything gon?” Geoff asked. Liam had to feel himself to check, but then told his uncle that he was wearing underwear. Geoff found the rest of Liam's clothes on the floor, placed them on the bed, and told his nephew to get dressed and meet him downstairs as quickly as he could.

“Why?” Liam asked.

“Because we're going home,” Geoff said, like it should have been obvious. Maybe before their earlier fight, it would have been.

“I don't have a home,” Liam said then, and he didn't care if he sounded like a kid.

“Our place is your home, Liam,” Geoff told him, and then left the bedroom without another word. Moving as quickly as he could without vomiting, Liam put his clothes on and went downstairs. Geoff was standing by the front door with Rhys and Elijah waiting nearby awkwardly. Liam smiled at them.

“Welcome to the neighborhood!” he said and then followed Geoff across the street.

“Get to bed,” Geoff instructed once inside the door, and Liam didn't have to be told twice. He felt as if he should be able to fall right to a deep, peaceful sleep, but the room was spinning and his whole body felt unsettled. Still, he must have been out of it enough because he didn't even notice that anyone entered his room until he felt hands on his back, giving him a light massage. When Liam checked to see who it was and found that it was his uncle, he frowned, but that hurt, so he quickly stopped and closed his eyes again, deciding to not think about the weirdness of the situation.

“Why do you always have to challenge me, Liam?” the older man asked gently.

When Liam had first moved in with his aunt and uncle and started 'acting out,' they had forced him to see a therapist, who said that Liam 'challenged' Geoff because he looked so much like his father and he was subconsciously expecting to be hurt or betrayed in some way by him as well. The result was, apparently, that Liam pushed his buttons to try to prove himself right.

Liam wasn't so sure about all of that, but it could be true, he guessed. He would actually have to think about his feelings to figure it out for sure, and that was something that Liam wasn't interested in doing.

The dancer felt too sick to answer his uncle right then, and he wouldn't know what to say anyway, but the older man didn't press for a response.

“Get some rest, kid,” he said prior to leaving the room and, finally, Liam did fall asleep.

When he woke, Liam was glad that he didn't feel too terrible, given how awful he had felt before drifting off. His head ached, as well as every other part of his body, but if he breathed in just the right way, he could refrain from feeling like he was about to spew his guts out.

“Good morning!” Karen greeted the man when he entered the kitchen. Liam had no idea if it was actually morning or not, but given that the ladies seemed to be eating breakfast, he guessed it was.

“Would you like an egg sandwich?” his aunt continued.

“Please,” Liam said, his voice only a croak. The girls pretended not to notice as he took a seat by Nicola, wincing as he did so. His body was so not used to being put through quite that much, but Liam would do it again, if the opportunity ever arose.

“How are you?” Nicola asked, somewhat awkwardly, after a few moments of silence.

“I'm fine,” Liam replied.

“Ruth and I should never have set you up to that. We're sorry,” the woman said, to which Liam shrugged.

“It was fun,” he assured her.

“Can we please do something this weekend as, like, a family?” his oldest cousin asked. It seemed like kind of a random question, but Liam could see in her eyes how much it meant to her, so, shrugging again, he said,

“Okay, sure.”

***Harry***

Two days after Harry signed his contract, he got an e-mail from Louis about the party he'd mentioned. It was to take place at a nearby hotel in exactly a week. Harry knew he should be excited for it; for everything, but he was starting to feel the beginning of pure regret for agreeing to join this tour. He was going to make a fool out of himself. This was way too big for him, and when he failed at this, he knew he could say goodbye to any other job opportunity in his field as well.

The contract was signed, though, and Harry knew he was going to have to go along with the tour until they came up with a good enough reason to fire him.

Briefly, Harry wondered if the party was mandatory, but he didn't wonder long because he knew he had to go anyway. It would be rude of him not to and, though he didn't want to admit it to himself, he actually did want to go if there was any chance at all that Louis would be there as well. He didn't know why he felt that way when he always felt more self-conscious and inferior than normal around the guy. Still, he enjoyed being around him.

Harry was realizing more almost every day that nothing about himself made sense.

Maybe the party wouldn't be so bad anyway, Harry tried to tell himself. Though Louis had booked rooms for the guests, given that not everyone lived in London, of course, Harry had yet to drop his apartment contract and so he could always leave and go home whenever he wanted. It would all be okay, even if Louis didn't show up. It had to be.

Liam called Harry later that day, asking if he would mind if he crashed with him the night before the party. Harry told him that of course he could stay there and added that he could crash with him anytime. He mostly just said that last part to be nice, but he was surprised when Liam showed up at his apartment door that very night.

“Oh,” Harry said, nothing short of surprised to see his friend. “Liam, hey!”

“Hey,” Liam said, forcing a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. “I hope you meant what you said about me crashing here any time.”

“Yeah, come on in,” Harry said, because even though it had just been the polite thing for him to say, he didn't mind. Besides, something was clearly upsetting his friend and Harry legitimately wanted to help. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah, everything's fine!” Liam said, his voice too chipper to be believable.

“Right,” Harry said, voice laced with sarcasm.

“I don't really want to talk about it,” Liam amended and before Harry had a chance to press, he unzipped one of his two bags and pulled out an unopened bottle of wine.

“Want some?” he asked.

“No, thank you.”

“Do you have a cork screw?”

“Yeah. In the kitchen.”

Liam followed Harry, which made the latter a little nervous. He hoped Liam wouldn't notice how empty his kitchen actually was. He supposed he would have to go to the grocery for the other man in the morning.

Of course, Harry's fear was irrational for the time being. Liam was only worried about getting to his wine, so he didn't go rummaging through Harry's nearly-bare refrigerator or cabinets.

“So, movie night?” Liam asked after Harry had helped him open his bottle and he had taken a long swig from it. “Or were you busy?”

“No, I wasn't busy,” Harry answered truthfully. He had been lying in bed, doing absolutely nothing, yet unable to fall asleep, when his friend showed up. “We can watch a movie.”

“Cool. What do you have?”

“Come on, let's go look.”

Liam drank while he followed Harry to his small DVD collection. Harry prayed there were no accidents so he could at least get the deposit back when he moved out in a couple of months.

Harry was embarrassed when Liam found, amongst his romantic comedies and dramas, Louis T.'s DVD from his second tour. Liam didn't seem to think anything of it, though and insisted that they watch it 'in celebration.'

“Do you have popcorn?” Liam asked as he got himself comfortable on Harry's sofa while the other put the movie in.

“No. Sorry.”

“It's okay. Hey, can you toss me my smaller bag?”

Harry did. Liam pulled out a chocolate bar, offered Harry part of it and, when he declined, shoved half of the thing into his mouth. How Liam remained so fit was a mystery to Harry and he felt a twinge of jealousy, which he quickly pushed away.

Before the DVD was even half over, Liam's chocolate bar was gone, along with his entire bottle of wine, and he fell asleep laying with the empty bottle still next to him. Harry paused the movie to move the bottle to the end table and cover Liam with a blanket, thinking that it was going to be a long week.

Over all, though, Harry thoroughly enjoyed having Liam in the apartment with him. Despite the fact that he had no other friends, he really wasn't a loner and having company was nice. The only hard part was having to sneak around with his impractical eating habits, but even that wasn't too terribly difficult. Liam was still passed out from a long night of partying when it was breakfast time, but Harry ate his bowl of oatmeal anyway. By dinner, Liam was usually gone getting an early start at bars or in clubs, and so the only difficult meal for Harry to fake was lunch. Typically, Harry didn't eat lunch, but with Liam there, he allowed himself a small salad or a piece of fruit. On the times that he felt Liam was growing suspicious, Harry would eat whatever the other guy ate and then purge. He waited until after lunch to shower for this very reason; so he could turn on the water and not be heard.

Sometimes, Harry wondered if he was relapsing, but he always soon after concluded that he wasn't. He still ate more than he did back when he was diagnosed with anorexia and he only purged in emergency situations. He was totally and completely fine, and it was an insult to those suffering that Harry even considered himself near the same boat.

 

On the day of the party, Liam looked, of course, amazing and available. Harry had planned to go in an oversized shirt and jeans so that no one would know how out of shape he was and wonder how he got in the tour in the first place, but Liam wouldn't let him. He searched through every article of Harry's clothing until he found a button-up shirt that fit way too snug and a pair of skinny jeans that Harry's ex-boyfriend had bought and insisted he looked amazing in. Harry thought he was lying, but Liam said the same thing. Of course, he only concluded that Liam was lying then too, but he wouldn't let him change. Harry knew Liam was a genuinely good guy, but he thought that maybe he had a motive to make Harry look as unappealing as he could so that it would be easier for him to draw the attention of all the men, not that it was hard for him anyway or that there would ever be any competition between the two of them.

Harry was hoping that his clothes would loosen up a little bit by the time they got to the party, but, if anything, they only got tighter. He could feel the material squeezing against his fat and it was kind of hard to breathe. He didn't think all of that was from nerves, which grew worse the closer the two got to the hotel where the party was being held.

“Whoa,” Liam breathed approvingly when the two entered the room where the party was taking place, and even Harry temporarily forgot his nerves as he looked around in awe. There were balloons, lights, streamers, confetti and glitter everywhere, creating an organized chaos. In short, it was beautiful.

“Well,” Liam continued after they had both looked around for a few moments, “let's go check out the atmosphere.”

Harry knew he didn't mean the party decorations.

Luckily, with Liam there in front of him, not many people noticed Harry, but he looked away quickly from those who did, not wanting to see what undesirable emotions lay behind their eyes.

“Nice,” Liam commented approvingly after the pair had made their rounds.

“So there are some worthy of Liam Payne's attention?” Harry teased, pretending that Liam didn't go for anyone who so much as looked at him.

“There are many,” Liam assured him.

“So are you going to find your first victim now or…?”

“Nah. Punch bowl,” Liam said, and ventured off in search of the drinks. Harry followed close behind.

There were two different punch bowls, one full of blue liquid and the other red. The blue was labeled simply 'punch' while the red was 'punch with a kick.'

“Do you want any?” Liam asked after he had already begun to fill two cups with the red drink.

“I'm good for now, thanks,” Harry said, not feeling bad because he knew neither cup would go to waste in Liam's hands. As his friend set in on his drink, Harry looked around once more. He had yet to see Louis and wondered if he would actually show up at all. He hoped he did, though not if he was going to regret his decision about Harry once he saw the dancer in such a tight, unflattering outfit.

“Okay,” Liam spoke once both cups were emptied less than five minutes later.

“You are going to puke,” Harry commented, wanting to puke himself just thinking of all the sugar his friend had ingested. Liam shrugged.

“I feel fine. Now off to find victim one.”

“Do you have anyone in mind?”

“That guy with the black and blue hair was cute,” Liam said.

“I think I just saw him go towards the DJ booth,” Harry informed his friend.

“Wonderful. How do I look?”

Liam gave Harry the pouty face and Harry rolled his eyes, smiling.

“Perfect, as always. Why do you even bother asking?”

“Aww, you're so sweet.”

Harry had been serious, but he didn't get the chance to tell Liam so because his friend was off. Harry hung back awkwardly until Liam turned and waved him over. He didn't know what the point was, as he was going to have to see himself off as soon as they found the black-and-blue-haired man, but Harry followed anyway.

The two were halfway to the DJ booth when Liam stopped, letting a gasp escape from his throat as he grabbed Harry's wrist to stop him from walking any further. Harry followed his friend's gaze, but couldn't find what the cause of this strange behavior could be. There were cute guys up ahead, but Liam never acted like this, no matter how attractive the man. He was the one to make people gasp, not vice versa.

“What is it?” Harry finally asked his friend when Liam didn't move or explain his actions.

“Niall,” Liam said.

“Who?”

“I sat next to him in psych class at the school I went to before I transferred.”

“Did you have an extraordinarily amazing fling with him or something?” Harry asked. Liam shook his head.

“I'm going to say hi,” he said, and walked off without another word. He didn't gesture for Harry to follow that time, so he didn't. He watched for a minute, intrigued by the way Liam's flirty stance had fallen away. He looked casual, which Harry didn't even know was a thing for Liam, though he was a bit guarded as well by the way he kept his arms crossed. Still, his smile when Niall turned his attention to him was genuine with no traces of the typical hungry smirk that was usually placed upon Liam's lips.

Smiling a little bit himself, Harry turned, feeling as if he would be intruding if he watched any longer. When he did, he made eye contact with a guy in the near distance, who had a perfectly trimmed beard, small button nose and, by the looks of it, a perfectly toned body. The smile slipped from Harry's face as he looked away, embarrassed. He decided it would be best to just hide in the bathroom for a bit.

***Niall***

“Just go say hi!”

“Nah. He probably doesn't remember me.”

Zayn, one of Niall's fellow back-up dancers who had attached himself to the latter quickly due to them both being at the party alone, groaned.

“So re-introduce yourself then.”

“He's not going to care about me. He's probably busy looking for someone to take back to his hotel room.”

Zayn rolled his eyes.

“I'm so glad that I have no attraction to people or a desire for a relationship. Both seem to involve too much drama.”

Niall didn't know what to say to that, and when Zayn moved his gaze back to the other dancer, his eyes settled instead on a spot behind him, and then they widened.

“What?” Niall asked, not turning at first because he was sure it was just Louis T. approaching and he didn't want to look like one of _those_ fans when he worked for the guy, but Zayn just kept staring, so, rolling his eyes, Niall turned his whole body to look. Then, he gasped because it wasn't Louis walking towards them at all. It was Liam, the guy he had been gushing over to Zayn for at least five minutes, but probably more than that.

Niall thought he was freaking out more on the inside over Liam approaching than he would have been if it was Louis walking their way. Logically, he knew Liam wasn't walking in slow motion, but he seemed like he was, and when the man had finally stopped in front of Niall, it seemed like it took at least two hours for him to say a word when it probably took him two seconds or less.

“Hey.”

Holy hell, Niall had forgotten how much he loved Liam's accent. Sure, he was the Irish guy surrounded in London by a bunch of English people, but Liam's accent was different. It was posh, it was clear, it was staggering, it was-

“Oh, um, do you remember me?”

Liam's voice broke through Niall's thoughts, stopping him from coming up with any more words to describe his accent. It was then that Niall realized he must have been staring and he was glad that it was too dark for anyone to see his red cheeks.

Mentally shaking himself, Niall smiled widely and, luckily, his voice was normal when he spoke.

“Of course I remember you, Liam!”

Liam smiled. Niall turned to excuse himself to Zayn, sure the man would understand, but his new friend was already gone. Well, he was sure he would find the guy later, so he shrugged it off and turned back to Liam.

“How have you been?” the English man asked then.

“I've been good!” Niall said, smiling again. “How about you?”

“I've been okay.”

Niall hoped Liam had truly been more than 'okay.' He knew Liam from his dance academy, as the guy had sat next to him in psychology and Art History class, but, unfortunately for him, Liam had been transferred a little over halfway through the term when he was caught sucking off the psychology professor during a time when it was only supposed to be janitors roaming the school. Supposedly, Liam had said that he was 'earning his A,' but whether that was true or not was a mystery. No one was really surprised at the thought, though. Liam was known to be a wild one and he'd probably had sex with at least half of the male population at that school.

Plus, Niall had seen the way the professor looked at Liam, always touching him as he made his frequent and unnecessary trips up and down the aisle.

Niall wasn't one to judge and he actually almost respected Liam for being so suave. He might have even looked up to him in a way if not for the fact that he fancied him. He'd gotten to know Liam before discovering his wild side. Actually, Niall wasn't sure that he hit his wild side until later that year because it was only in December that Liam would start coming to class drunk, hungover or both. Sometimes, Niall was even pretty sure that he was stoned. He remembered fondly how Liam had come to class with a bowl of cold spaghetti one day, insisting Niall eat some too so people wouldn't think he was on drugs, even though he clearly was.

Still, even with his wild side, Liam was a good guy. He met up with Niall a couple of times outside of class to study and brought cupcakes like a housewife greeting new neighbors. He let Niall copy his notes when he was sick and missed a couple classes, and he'd even come to his dorm to check on him and bring him medicine.

Niall had been planning on asking Liam on a date until his room mate told him that Liam made it very clear that he didn't date (though he still recommended shagging the guy, telling Niall that he 'gave head like no other.') Even after that, Niall still contemplated asking him on a date, but he didn't want to get rejected and make things awkward. He figured Liam was out of his league anyway with a track record like that.

“You've been just okay?” Niall asked Liam. Liam smiled and changed the subject.

“Are you one of Louis's dancers?”

“Yeah,” Niall said, letting him drop that topic.

“That's awesome.”

“I'm really glad you got a spot too! You totally deserve it.”

“Thank you.”

“Hey, do you want to come with me to get a drink? I want to hear about your new school.”

Really, Niall just wanted to hear Liam talk some more.

“Yeah, sure,” Liam agreed, leading the way.

***Louis***

Louis heard that his party was going successfully as soon as he reached the appropriate floor. The music was loud, but not loud enough to drown out the sounds of laughter and friendly chatting, and that made him smile. He always showed up late to these events on purpose so that everyone else could mingle instead of trying to get to know only Louis. He didn't mind when they talked to him, of course, but they would be seeing each other more often, so he wanted them all to bond. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to feel left out or lonely for a long, worldwide tour.

Proving the point that everything was going well, Louis walked into the party room to see lots of smiling faces. His own smile growing, Louis's eyes began to roam, scanning the area for one person in particular. His smile faded a little when he failed to spot him. Of course, there were a lot of people, so maybe he was just hidden behind someone else.

Louis began to walk around, still searching.

Surprisingly, it took a fairly long time for anyone to notice him, but everyone remained calm when they realized the singer had finally shown up to the party. Well, some of them were faking calm, Louis knew (he got very good at recognizing the 'calm' fans from the 'fake calm' fans to the 'I really don't care, get me out of here' boyfriends, girlfriends and parents.) He also knew that the ones still struggling would learn quickly that he was just a person; not at all amazing in any spectacular way.

Louis forced himself to pay complete attention whenever someone would begin chatting with him, but whenever they parted, Harry instantly popped back to the forefront of his mind. He wished he'd gotten a contact number from the dancer so that he could check if he was there. Louis was wondering if it would be creepy to stop by the other's room to check for his presence when he finally spotted the man he was looking for, sitting by himself at a table and scrolling through his phone. Smiling again, Louis headed over, only getting stopped a couple of more times.

“Well, that's no way to spend a party,” Louis commented once in front of the guy he'd been targeting, who looked up and then quickly slipped his phone into his pocket, looking almost scared. Louis made sure to give him a smile. “This is where I am supposed to say something about technology sucking the life away from you youngsters, I think.”

“Yeah, because you're so old,” Harry said, and he gave an almost-smile. “Sorry. My mate went off to talk to someone so...”

“So make some new mates,” Louis said. “That's what this party is for.”

“I'm not very good at that kind of thing,” Harry told him with an awkward shrug.

“I'll help then. Come on.”

Harry simply stared, his fingertips drumming nervously on the tabletop. Louis motioned for him to follow and turned, hoping the guy would listen to his words. When he looked back after a few steps, he saw Harry standing from his chair, and mentally patted himself on the back.

It didn't take long for Harry to catch up to Louis and together they walked up to a man who Louis remembered to be named Fergus and his girlfriend, Tina. Louis tapped them on the shoulders and they stopped dancing to turn around.

“Sorry for interrupting,” Louis apologized though, to be frank, they looked thrilled that he had. “How is the party going?”

“Great,” Fergus answered while Tina replied,

“It's marvelous.”

“Glad to hear it,” Louis said. “This is Harry, by the way. He's a dancer too. Harry, this is Fergus and Tina.”

The three exchanged pleasantries, Harry tugging nervously on his shirt but still smiling politely. After a minute, when their light conversation about where they went to school and such had settled down, Louis told Fergus and Tina to keep enjoying the party and led Harry away.

Louis introduced Harry to a few more people before he decided that the poor guy's nerves had been through enough for the time being. Besides, Louis wanted to talk to him by himself.

“Will you come with me to the food table?” the singer asked the dancer.

“Okay,” Harry said after a brief, but noticeable pause.

“You don't have to,” Louis made sure to tell him. Harry gave what Louis was finding to be his version of a smile, but was really just the corners of his mouth twitching upwards a couple of times in a row.

“No, it's okay,” Harry said. Louis hoped he meant his words and headed off to the food table to gather a plate.

“Do you want anything?” Louis asked as he picked up a plate. Harry politely declined the offer.

“Alright, Harry,” Louis said as the two sat by the nearest empty table, “how can I help you have fun?”

“I am having fun,” Harry told him. Louis gave him a disbelieving look. Harry glanced down.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” Louis asked. “Because I can be quite annoying, I know that, so I really won't be offended if you tell me to bug off.”

Well, Louis might be a little offended if Harry told him that, but he wouldn't hold it against him.

At the words, Harry's head shot back up.

“You don't have to,” he said, which really didn't answer Louis's question.

“Would you prefer I did though?” he pressed. Harry chewed on his lip, debating silently, before finally shaking his head.

“Pinky promise?” Louis asked, sticking out his littlest finger. That finally got a genuine smile out of Harry and Louis thought he almost wanted to die happily right then because _oh my god, who knew those dimples were so deep?_

Still smiling, Harry pinky promised Louis that he didn't want him to get lost, so Louis popped a strawberry into his mouth happily.

The two were quiet for a minute, but it was a comfortable silence. The smile had yet to fully fade from Harry's face and Louis hoped it never did, even though he knew it would.

Taking in the atmosphere, Louis thought this was what prom would have been like, had he gone, what with the candles on the table, the music, the balloons…

He hoped the night wouldn't end with him getting called a faggot and then jumped like the one school dance he did attend had, though since these people worked for him, he doubted things would get taken to that extreme.

“So, would you like to go dance with me?” Louis asked the man sitting across from him once he'd finished eating. Harry raised his eyebrows. Louis shrugged. “Feel free to say no,” he said, “but you're going to have to come up with a better excuse than that you can't or don't dance.”

Harry laughed then-actually laughed. Louis felt warm, his chest heavy in a most pleasant way.

“I would love to dance with you, but people might not want to be my friend if I get to, honestly.”

“I'll fire them all.”

Harry laughed again and shook his head. He was biting his lip as he looked down towards the floor. Louis sighed.

“Okay, rejected,” he said, rather dramatically. “This is just like primary school.”

“I doubt anyone ever rejected you,” Harry said, looking back at Louis, though Louis thought his eyes were trained on his nose and not his actual eyes. Louis had been taught that technique when he first got into the business. Looking at the tip of someone's nose gave the impression that you were really looking at them, but was less intimidating than looking in someone's eyes.

“They did though,” Louis told Harry.

“Was it a straight guy? Because that doesn't count.”

“No, the guy was openly gay.”

“Well...his loss.”

“Is it your loss that you won't come dance with me then?”

Harry smiled yet again. Another score for Louis.

“Maybe,” Harry said, getting distracted by the candle in front of them flickering. Louis, however, didn't look away from Harry's face. He looked beautiful, of course. Louis doubted Harry could ever not look stunning, but the way the light settled then showed the circles underneath the dancer's eyes, mostly hidden by make-up, that Louis wasn't used to seeing. He frowned.

“Are you tired?” he asked.

“A little,” Harry admitted.

“Thank you for coming to the party anyway.”

“It's cool that you threw something like this.”

“Thank you for agreeing to do the tour.”

“I still can't believe I actually got offered a spot.”

“I know you can't, but you deserve it.”

Louis thought Harry blushed then, but with the dim light, he couldn't be positive.

Beatrice approached the table then, telling Louis that it was time for him to do his 'welcome and thank you' speech. Louis sighed, looking towards Harry regretfully.

“Duty calls,” he said. “Will I see you around more tonight?”

“Maybe.”

Louis sighed again, louder; too loudly.

“Why do the pretty ones always play hard to get?” he wondered aloud. Harry definitely turned red then, Louis could see it. Smiling proudly, the singer stood and followed Beatrice to the stand she had set up for him. The DJ cut the music and people groaned before realizing why the sound had stopped and then turned their attention to him.

“Hello!” Louis began. “I hope you're all enjoying the party, eating and drinking lots and making new friends. I'm so excited to get to know all of you better as well.”

Inadvertently, Louis's eyes traveled back to the table where he had been sitting with Harry only moments ago, and his heart fell as he saw the guy stand up and slide stealthily out of the room. He hoped the disappointment wasn't obvious as he continued his previously rehearsed speech.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was trying to stay a chapter ahead of what I was posting to give myself a little room to get a tad bit behind, but I've found myself becoming confused of what you all have and haven't read, and the last thing I want it to reply to a comment or something and give an unintentional spoiler, so I've decided that was a bad idea. Since I am currently one chapter ahead, I'm leaving you with an extra update this week. I hope you enjoy ;)

***Niall***

Niall was beginning to wonder if taking Liam over to the punch bowls had been a good idea. He hadn't thought of the party boy liking to...well...party. He filled and re-filled his cup like he was drinking water, but the more he drank, the happier he got, so Niall guessed it was alright, at least until the morning. Besides, Liam was still pretty comprehensible when he was intoxicated and he talked to his former classmate like nothing was out of the ordinary, despite for a few slurred words and hiccups.

Liam told Niall what was better and what was worse about his new school and then asked what had changed since he'd been gone.

“Well,” Niall began. “The professor that took over psychology class after Fugate was sacked was a complete bitch.”

“Sorry about that,” Liam said with a sheepish grin.

“It's okay,” Niall assured him. He almost told Liam that he'd missed sitting by him once he'd gone, but he didn't.

“I'm hungry,” Liam announced then, sliding over to the food table in what Niall thought was supposed to be a stealth move. Playing along, Niall pretended to have no idea where Liam had disappeared to until the other man called him over, waving enthusiastically and nearly dropping the plate he was putting different kinds of cheeses on.

“There you are!” Niall called, sighing in relief as he went to join the man. “I thought you got tired of me and apparated away.”

“Never from you,” Liam said, looking down the bridge of his nose at Niall seriously and then giggling.

Niall waited until Liam was satisfied with his plate and then they headed towards the tables. In his drunken state, Liam was having quite a difficult time balancing his food and his very full cup, and Niall was just about to offer his help when Liam fell sideways, sloshing some of his beverage out and onto someone's shoes.

“Oh, shit, sorry!” Liam said, looking up at the same time that Niall glanced over to see who Liam had bumped into. Both gasped when they saw that it was Louis T.

“I'm really sorry!” the intoxicated man apologized again, even though he had started to giggle uncontrollably. Louis smiled.

“No harm done, mate,” Louis assured him. “You're enjoying the party then?”

“Yeah!” Liam said.

“Good,” Louis said, and then looked to Niall. “Are you?”

Niall nodded.

“This is my friend!” Liam explained to the singer. “His name is Niall.”

“Yeah, I remember Niall,” Louis said, turning his kind smile back to Liam.

“Oh yeah,” he said with another giggle and even a snort. “He's your dancer, duh!”

Finally coming out of his state of being shell-shocked (Niall was maybe really bad about the whole 'getting starstruck' thing), Niall smiled, able to peel his eyes off of Louis to look back at Liam, whose own eyes were lit up with joy. Niall didn't think he could like Liam much more than he already did, but he kept getting proven wrong.

“Oh, hey,” Liam said, turning to his former classmate, “we need to go find Harry!”

“Who?” Niall asked.

“My other friend! Harry!”

“I think Harry left,” Louis spoke up then. Niall had somehow almost forgotten he was there.

“He couldn't have left! He's my ride home!” Liam announced, sounding panicked at the thought. “I'll go check his room.”

After giving his plate a longing look, Liam plopped one last piece of cheese into his mouth before handing the whole thing off to Louis.

“Have some cheese,” he told the singer.

“Thank you,” Louis said with a small laugh.

“You're welcome, Louis. Come, Niall! We must go find Harry!”

After slipping his hand into Niall's, Liam ran off, leaving the Irish man hurrying to keep up while also doing his best to steady the other. He was mostly successful, but when Liam gave one particularly wide swerve, Niall couldn't stop him from bumping into yet another man.

“Sorry!” he apologized, nearly backing into Niall as he tried to move away from the stranger with black and blue hair. The man whom he'd accidentally assaulted looked Liam up and down, a smirk forming slowly on his face.

“That's okay, baby,” he said, and was about to say something else-probably a crude pick-up line, Niall guessed-but Liam didn't give him a chance and ran off again. It was Niall's turn to smirk.

***Harry***

Harry's stomach growled as soon as Louis went off to do his speech. It had been growling for a while, but it was painful that time. He crossed his arms around his stomach and pressed against it, trying to relieve some of the pain, but the effort soon caused him to get shaky and weak and Harry knew it was hopeless. He had to eat something.

Luckily for him, the food table was close and there were some truly healthy options available, but, unfortunately, there were too many people around. Someone would see Harry eating and if he ate junk food, they would think that it was no wonder he was so fat. On the flip side, if he ate something healthier, they would then wonder what the point was. Harry knew he wasn't fooling anybody with this body.

Harry stood slowly, praying the room wouldn't turn blue. It didn't, and so he made his way as quickly as his body would allow to the elevators and then up to his room where he dug into his overnight bag in search of his protein bars.

He had the whole bag empty before he realized that he'd left the box sitting on his kitchen counter.

“Shit,” Harry whispered to himself. Well, he was just going to have to starve then, he guessed, except that he knew that, if he did, he would end up passing out and wake up miserable. Plus, if someone found him unconscious, that would create more problems than the situation was worth. He knew that no one would probably come looking for him anyway, but there was still an off chance, and the last thing Harry needed right now was a hospital visit. He was just going to have to suck it up and get something from the vending machine.

The room started to change colors when Harry stood from his squatting position, but after squeezing his eyes shut for a few moments and concentrating on breathing slowly and steadily out and in, Harry got to the point where he thought he could at least make it to the vending machine. Just in case, he first drank a cup of water, wishing that would buy him more time than just a couple of minutes.

Harry crossed his arms as he studied the options the machine held for him, trying to find the healthiest one. He supposed that would be the peanut butter crackers and, after looking around to make sure no one was watching, he pressed the corresponding code and received his food. He felt guilty because he knew he shouldn't be eating this, as it wasn't in his diet plan, but he also knew that it was necessary.

Once back in his hotel room, Harry dead bolted the door and sat on the bed, opening the package and taking a bite out of the first cracker. His stomach rejoiced immediately, even though Harry's mind was shrieking at him like a banshee. He almost didn't care. The food tasted so good, like it was from a five-star restaurant and not just a five-star hotel's vending machine.

The plan had been for Harry to eat half of the package and throw the other half away, but before he could even register what he was doing, all six peanut butter crackers were gone; into his stomach.

When he realized what he'd done, Harry's heart dropped as heat rose to his cheeks. He'd let his 'pig' side out again.

Maybe it wasn't so bad, Harry tried to reason with himself after staring in horror at the empty and torn wrapping. Peanut butter had protein in it, so maybe it wasn't much different than his protein bars.

With shaking fingers, Harry flipped the wrapper over and checked the nutritional facts, needing to know how much damage control he was going to have to do later. When he did, he almost threw up right on the bed. _150 calories._ _ **13 grams of fat!!!**_

Gasping out loud, Harry jumped off of the bed and ran to the bathroom, flipping open the toilet lid and dropping to his knees so hard that he knew they were going to bruise later. He didn't care. 

Putting his pointer and middle fingers together, Harry opened his mouth and slid them in. He used so much force that he scratched the back of his throat, but, again, he didn't care. He coughed and kept going farther and farther down until he gagged, coughed, then gagged again and, finally, threw up.

He repeated those actions twice more. Then he saw blood.

Harry gasped again, blinking a few times to make sure that was really what he was looking at there in the toilet. As he blinked, he realized he was crying. Thinking back, he thought maybe he did remember starting to cry as he'd shoved his fingers down his throat for the second time.

With a loud sob, Harry wiped his mouth and then doubled over, feeling as if knives were stabbing him in the stomach.

_ This has to stop _ , Harry told himself, echoing many other voices from his past.  _ This isn't normal behavior. There is a party going on a couple floors above you where you should be having fun. Your celebrity crush is there and he'd wanted to hang out and dance with you, but you left to go eat in private, purge and then cry on the bathroom floor.  _ _**This is not normal behavior.** _

Harry had to take several deep, calming breaths before his tears stopped and when they did, he sat up. His stomach still hurt, but not quite as bad.

Slowly getting to his feet, Harry flushed the toilet, washed his hands and brushed his teeth before splashing water onto his face. He then re-applied his makeup and adjusted his clothing.  Lastly, he popped a piece of gum into his mouth for good measure.  The juice burned his throat, though, so he didn't keep it in long.

He should go back to the party, he knew. So what if he wasn't quite as fit or attractive as the others? He was chosen by Louis to be a part of this tour, just like them. They could judge all they wanted, but that wouldn't change that fact.

Harry took a breath.

_ Just go back to the party, Harry. It's what a normal person would do.  _

_ Go back and accept that dance from Louis. _

_ Don't you want to be normal? _

As Harry opened the bathroom door (and he  _ thought _ he was heading to the party, but he couldn't quite trust his legs, so he wasn't sure), there was a knock on the main door. Harry paused for only a moment before opening it and coming face to face with Liam. His friend, Niall, was close behind.

“Harry!” Liam exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug. “I was so afraid you left me, Harry.”

“I wouldn't do that, Liam,” Harry told his clearly intoxicated friend, wrapping his arms around his middle to return the hug.

“I thought you decided that you didn't want to be my friend anymore.”

“Of course I didn't.”

Liam held onto him for a couple moments more before letting go and then smiling.

“This is my friend, Niall! Niall this is my friend, Harry!”

The two exchanged friendly greetings and then Liam spoke again.

“Why aren't you up at the party?” he asked Harry.

“I just needed a breather,” Harry said.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I feel great, actually.”

He did feel great, for the most part. At least, he felt better than he had in a while, even with the soreness of his throat and pain in his stomach. He was used to that anyway, especially the latter issue.

“Are you coming back to the party?” Liam asked.

“Yeah, I was just about to head up, actually.”

“ Good,” Liam said, moving from the doorway to allow Harry to exit. “I think Louis misses you.”

“Sure,” Harry said with a roll of his eyes.

“He does! Doesn't he, Niall?” Liam asked, the trio beginning the walk to the elevators.

“He definitely noticed your absence,” Niall told Harry. Harry gave him a look, trying to convey the message, 'give me a break,' and Niall smiled. Harry wondered if it was a mocking smile, but the more logical side of him knew it probably wasn't. It was probably just the disorder making Harry feel that way.

“I can feel myself sobering up,” Liam announced as they reached the party again. “I'm going to get a drink.”

“I think water is the best option for you right now, Li,” Harry reasoned.

“Boooor-ring,” Liam drawled and headed away, leaving Niall and Harry with not much choice but to follow him.

Staying true to the kind individual that he was, Liam poured Niall and Harry a cup too, and not just himself.

“So, Harry, you went to school with Liam?” Niall asked to create polite conversation.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “We were in each other's main dance class.”

“That's cool that you both made it.”

“Yeah.”

Harry was about to ask Niall about his own dance history when he felt a tap on the shoulder. Turning, Harry saw the man he'd briefly made eye contact with earlier-the one with the beard and the cute nose-and the guy smiled shyly at him.

“Hey, I'm Andy,” he introduced himself.

“Harry.”

“Nice to meet you, Harry. What part of Louis's tour do you work as?”

“I'm a dancer.”

“Really?” Andy asked, his eyes widening. Harry fought to roll his own. He knew he didn't look like a dancer, but Andy didn't need to make that fact so obvious.

“Yeah,” Harry replied anyway.

“I'm just a bus driver,” Andy explained. “Do you think you can show me some moves?”

Harry's mouth opened a little bit, unsure if Andy was serious or not. Even if he was, he was probably expecting Harry to be much better than he was, given that he was supposed to be a professional, and if Harry embarrassed himself in front of this man, he was going to have to live with touring the world with him for seven months.

“Doooo it!” Liam had whispered loudly sometime during Harry's internal crisis, but Andy was apparently giving up because with a quiet, 'ok then,' he turned to leave, but stopped when Harry reached out and touched his arm quickly; briefly.

“Sorry,” Harry said, “but, I mean, yeah, I can show you some moves.”

He handed Liam his drink, took Andy's hand and saw him smile before Harry turned and led him to the dance floor, his cheeks growing warm for the umpteenth time that night. Of course, his embarrassment was helped none by Liam cat-calling behind them.

Their dance started awkward, mainly because of Harry, probably, but when Andy whispered 'relax' in Harry's ear, he actually started to.

“I just want to have a good time,” Andy assured him.

Once it was clear that Harry had relaxed enough, Andy moved closer and grabbed onto the dancer's hips. He tensed again, knowing Andy could feel every imperfection around his waistline.

“ You're beautiful,” Andy said to make Harry feel better, and even though it wasn't the truth, he didn't seem completely turned off and only moved closer still. This was the closest Harry had been to a man in over a year, and his breath caught in his throat. All he wanted to do was run away and lock himself back in the bedroom, but he didn't. He kept dancing, determined to not let the sickness win.

*** Louis***

_ Oh, sure, Harry can dance with that hipster guy with the stupid beard, but not me. Okay then. _

Louis wondered who hired the hipster guy anyway and what his job was. Whoever did the hiring needed to have a stern talking to, in Louis's opinion. 

The singer was at least self-aware enough to know that he was being petty and bitter, and he forced himself to look away from the pair on the dance floor as he finished his drink quickly. After downing the beverage and hiccuping once, Louis turned his eyes back to Beatrice and Dean, who he was sure had been saying something to him before he became distracted, but he had no idea what.

Whatever they had been talking about, they weren't anymore anyway. Both were silent, staring at Louis with a look of half worry and half amusement on their faces.

“What?” Louis asked, though he had a slight idea of  _ what.  _

“Let me guess, you were looking at that dancer,” Beatrice spoke.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Louis said, attempting to take another sip from his drink but, oh yeah, it was empty.

“I mean, I can't really blame Lou, Beatrice,” Dean said. “Those brownies were quite magical.”

“I didn't ever have a brownie,” Louis reminded the guy. “Anyway, I wasn't looking at Harry.”

Pursing her lips, Beatrice turned and looked in the exact direction Louis had been staring. Harry had yet to move from the spot, betraying Louis yet again.

“Aww, Lou-Lou, are you jealous?” Beatrice asked as if she were talking to a baby, smiling as she turned back to her employer. Maybe Louis should fire both her and whoever the guy with Harry was.

“Why would I be jealous?” Louis questioned hypothetically. Beatrice decided to answer anyway.

“Because your dancer crush seems to have eyes for someone else, obviously.”

Louis wanted to tell the woman that just because Harry and beard-o were dancing didn't mean that Harry liked the guy, but instead he simply rolled his eyes.

“You're ridiculous. Anyway, I'm calling it a night. I'll be back later to help clean up.”

“ Are you okay?” Beatrice asked, truly worried then. It wasn't like Louis to skip out on parties early.  S how up late, yes, but leave early? Never.

“I'm fine,” Louis said, moving out of the way of Beatrice's hand which she tried to place on his forehead to check for a fever. “I'm just really tired.”

Bitterness could really wear a guy out.

“Okay, Louis,” she said, still unsure. She was such a mom sometimes. “I'll see you later then.”

“Enjoy the rest of the party.”

By some miracle, Louis got out of the room and was halfway to the elevators before anyone tried to stop him.

“Hey, wait,” a voice said. Even though Louis really just wanted to curl up in bed and watch  _ Titanic _ or something, he wasn't one to ignore fans or anyone else so, holding in his sigh, he turned around and was shocked to see that it was Harry walking towards him.

_ Stay cool, make him work for it; he betrayed you _ , Louis told himself.

“Oh, hey!” he called out, starting to smile before he remembered to not. Harry came to a halt in front of him.

“You can't leave without giving me that dance,” Harry said. Louis raised an eyebrow.

“I thought you didn't want it?”

“I changed my mind.”

“Hmm. Well, I can't actually dance, so you will wind up disappointed anyway, I'm afraid,” Louis said because he was suddenly very worried about disappointing Harry.

“I saw your tour DVD,” Harry said flatly. “I already know that you can't dance.”

Even though his face was serious, there was a glint in the dancer's eyes; teasing. He was teasing Louis! The singer had to let out a smile, wondering if Harry had sneaked off earlier to take a nap. If so, it had done him wonders.

Still trying (very hard) to play it cool, Louis let out an exaggerated yawn. 

“But I'm tired,” he whined. Harry glared at him, but there was a smile on his face; his dimples on full display, and then he made to grab Louis's hands, but pulled back last second.

“ Can I touch you?” he asked.

“No, I'm very fragile,” Louis said.

“I promise to be gentle.”

Louis pretended to think it over for a bit.

“Fine,” he finally said. “I guess holding your hand is worth the risk of being broken.”

“Are you writing a song?” Harry teased again.

“Maybe,” Louis said, though reminded himself to keep that line in mind. He could work with it.

“Well, I won't break you.”

Staying true to his word of being gentle, as if Louis really was fragile, Harry took the singer's hand and led him back into the party, where they quickly found an empty spot on the dance floor.

“Okay,” Harry said, letting go of Louis's hand but turning his body to face the singer, “show me what you've got.”

Louis took a few deep breaths and even closed his eyes in preparation. Then, he went right into an extremely bad version of the sprinkler. Harry's eyes widened before he burst into laughter, covering his face but peeking through the spaces in his fingers while continuing to crack up. Proud, Louis soon changed his move to the lawnmower. Harry's hands fell to knees as he doubled over, laughing even harder.

“Okay, okay, stop,” he said after about half a minute. “Stop, you're literally killing me. It hurts.”

“But you haven't even seen my disco moves yet!” Louis said, slowly bringing his lawnmower to a stop.

“I really don't think I would be able to handle that,” Harry said, straightening his body with a smile still on his face.

“Would that be a sexiness overload?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah, way too much sexy.”

The song playing from the massive speakers stopped, leaving only a couple seconds of silence before the next song began. That one was cut off quickly though, and a longer silence ensued before a slower song sounded throughout the room. Louis recognized it immediately as “Hero” by Enrique Iglesias and frowned in confusion, certain he hadn't put any slow songs on the play list, but especially not that sappy of a love song.

When he looked to the DJ booth to see what was going on, all was explained by Dean standing there, a huge, goofy grin on his face. When he saw that Louis noticed him, his smile got even bigger and he gave Louis two thumbs up. Louis was sure, in that moment, that he actually hated the man.

“My manager is a dick,” Louis announced, but when he turned to face Harry again, he saw that the other man's face had grown completely serious; almost too serious.

“Harry?” Louis asked, tilting his head in concern. “Are you okay?”

For a moment, Harry only continued to look at Louis with that same expression. Then, a small smile graced itself upon his face again.

“Louis, will you do me the honor of dancing with me?” he asked.

“I thought that's what we were doing…?”

Harry raised an eyebrow.

“I would love to dance with you,” Louis amended. Harry moved closer and acted again as if he wanted to reach out and touch Louis, but stopped short. Taking over, Louis took Harry's hands and placed them gently on his own hips before wrapping his arms around Harry's neck.

Yep, this definitely felt like prom.

Smiling a bit bigger and seeming to relax most of the way, Harry began to lead the dance. Louis thought that maybe this was better than prom would have been.

“Smile for the picture!” a voice from the side commanded of them and, whipping their heads over, the men saw that it was Dean. Louis shouldn't have been surprised.

“I hate pictures,” Harry said, his eyes wide as he leaned his head back, getting as far away from the camera as possible in his current position.

“Oh, come on,” Louis said, “like you could ever take a bad photo.”

Harry didn't reply, just moved his gaze to the floor. Louis felt bad immediately, so he was extra gentle as he lifted Harry's chin up with his index finger and made him look back into his eyes.

“Hey, show me those sexy dimples, yeah?” he requested. Harry fought his smile, that much was obvious, but he lost the fight.

“Perfect,” Dean commented after a couple moments of the two others just standing there, Louis's finger still under Harry's chin while they looked into each other's eyes. Harry's eyes were green; truly green...The most beautiful green Louis had ever seen.

“Did you take a picture?!” Harry asked the older man, breaking away from Louis as the smile melted off his face, and he looked nothing short of horrified then instead.

“Yep,” Dean said, and hurried off without another word.

“That won't be posted anywhere, will it?” Harry asked, turning back to Louis.

“I doubt it,” Louis said, “but don't worry. You look gorgeous tonight.”

Harry tried to smile, but it fell somewhat short as he looked back to the ground.

“You've looked gorgeous every time I've seen you, actually,” Louis corrected himself.

“You're full of it,” Harry said and then, “spin.”

Louis did, twirling like a ballerina as Harry held their arms in the air. Once he was back to facing the dancer, Harry gave him another small grin and pulled him closer, looking down again so that Louis couldn't see his eyes.

_“_ _I can kiss away the pain_ ,” Enrique Iglesias sang out, and Louis wished that he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is still coming up this weekend!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was supposed to be posted yesterday, but my four-year-old decided to play finder's keepers with my flash drive. She apparently counted taking the flash drive from my laptop as 'finding' it.

***Harry***

Once the slow song ended, the dance music came back on. Harry was glad because he didn't think he would be able to handle another emotionally charged song, but he was admittedly a little disappointed when Louis let go of his waist and backed up. He was still close, but compared to what he had been, it didn't really seem like it. Harry had just been growing comfortable with Louis's hands touching him and feeling his imperfections. Like Andy, he hadn't seemed turned off, but unlike Andy, he looked in Harry's eyes and smiled, his touch always firm but gentle, instead of looking at his lips like he was a piece of meat and digging his fingers into Harry's flesh.

“Oh, do I get this dance too?” Louis asked when Harry hadn't moved; he was standing there and wondering silently if Louis had secretly been disgusted and just waiting for the song to end to make a break for it, like a gentleman would do.

“Um...do you want it?” Harry asked, bouncing awkwardly on the balls of his feet.

“I'm kind of a greedy guy, so...yeah. Yeah, I do,” Louis said, and winked. The heavy weight that had settled itself again upon Harry lifted a little, and he smiled too. Louis moved closer again and, even though his rhythm was a little off, he moved his hips with Harry's as he again held onto the other's waist. After about a minute, Harry decided it was his turn to hold onto Louis's waist, and the singer seemed to like that idea.

After that song had ended, Louis announced that he was going to get a drink and offered Harry to come along. He did, and even picked up a bowl of fruit for himself, aware as he passed the food table of how very hungry he actually was. Part of him protested the fruit, thinking he shouldn't be eating anything when he'd devoured the peanut butter crackers earlier, but Harry had gotten rid of those and he wasn't going to let himself starve. Not again.

It didn't take long for Harry to finish his fruit or for Louis to finish his drink, and as they stood, perhaps to go back to the dance floor (Harry wasn't sure), Niall approached them, a slight frown on his face.

“Hey, guys, sorry to interrupt,” he began.

“You aren't interrupting anything,” Harry assured him. Niall smiled for a split second before his frown appeared again.

“Have you seen Liam recently?” he asked.

“No, I haven't,” Harry said as Louis too said that he had not seen the other man. Harry figured Liam had done what Liam often did; find some guy to run off with, and he felt bad for Niall. He had no reason to believe this, but something gave him the feeling that Niall might like Liam in a way that meant more than taking him to his hotel room for one night.

He saw Niall's shoulders droop. Harry was about to suggest that maybe Liam went to bed and hope Niall didn't get the pun when the blonde spoke again.

“Never mind,” he said. “I found him.”

Following the other's gaze, Harry saw Liam as well, passed out with his forehead on a table in the far corner of the room. Immediately growing worried, Harry followed Niall as he hurried away and was surprised when he noticed that Louis was coming along as well.

“Liam,” Niall said gently when they reached the dancer's side, touching his shoulder briefly. Liam didn't budge. Making sure to support his weight, Niall lifted Liam to a sitting position, and his head rolled to the side, his eyes still closed. Harry almost screamed. Liam's face was pale except for the bright red tint of his cheeks.

“Whoa,” Louis said. “Did he drop something?”

“It wouldn't surprise me,” Niall said.

“Did he overdose?!” Harry asked. He could feel his heart racing, but Louis remained calm.

“Nah, I don't think so,” he answered. There was a cup of water on the table near where Liam had been lying, so Harry thought he'd at least tried to sober himself up. Louis stuck his bare hand into the cup and fished out an ice cube, which he ran across Liam's face. Almost right away, Liam's eyes opened and he sat up a little on his own, taking some of his weight from Niall.

“Waz going on?”

“Hey, Liam! Rise and shine!” Louis said, leaning over so that his eyes were at level with his back-up dancer's. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

Liam studied Louis for a moment before his eyes roamed over to Harry and then, finally, Niall, whom he gave a sleepy smile. Niall smiled right back, a look of relief on his face, but Harry didn't feel much better quite yet.

“Are you ready to go to bed, Liam?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Liam answered, and lazily put his wrists up next to each other. “Cuff me, baby.”

Harry knew he turned some shade of red as Louis snorted.

“I'm taking him to bed,” Harry told the more sober individuals. “I mean, not for that, but to, you know…sleep.”

“I'm glad you're not the type to take advantage of a very intoxicated man, Harry,” Louis teased. Harry could still feel his cheeks burning, perhaps worse then.

Liam made no effort to stand by himself, so both Harry and Niall helped him up and to get into a comfortable position against Harry. His legs were almost complete jello, but Liam still managed to look at Niall and offer another grin.

“It was nice to hang out with you tonight,” he told his former classmate.

“You too, Liam,” Niall said sincerely.

“Thank you for everything,” Harry said to Louis.

“You're welcome,” Louis assured him. “I'll see you soon.”

Harry smiled briefly and then spoke again.

“I'm sorry for him too,” he said, nodding to Liam, who was asleep against his shoulder. “I swear none of his partying interferes with his dancing.”

“Relax, Harry. He's just having fun,” Louis said. “I work in the music industry, you know. I've seen my fair share of party boys and girls.”

Harry nodded, then said good night to both the singer and Niall before dragging Liam into the hall. (Dragging was pretty much literally what he had to do.)

“Okay, Liam, mate, you're going to have to get on my back,” Harry said breathlessly once they'd made it out to the hall. Harry was pretty sure he was about to break into a sweat at any moment.

“Okay,” Liam agreed, semi-conscious, and he didn't really help, but allowed Harry to move his body as needed until he was in a somewhat comfortable position on his back. “Sorry 'm a fat ass,” he slurred as Harry began to walk towards the elevator, praying to all the higher powers that may have ever existed that he could make it without injuring either one of them.

“Liam, you aren't fat!” he snapped.

“Was a joke. Calm down,” Liam yawned, but Harry felt guilty. He hoped he hadn't made Liam feel bad with his clear exhaustion. Liam had a great body, Harry was just weak.

The higher powers, or at least luck, was on Harry's side and he made it to his bedroom with only a mild stitch in his side and a couple of knives in his lungs.

After laying Liam on the bed and helping him to remove his sweat-drenched shirt, Harry got his friend a glass of water and helped him drink some of it before Liam assured Harry that he would be fine while he went and got washed up for bed. Liam was asleep by the time he returned, so after making sure his breathing and pulse were normal, Harry curled against the other man and went to sleep as well.

Unsurprisingly, Harry awoke to the sound of Liam getting sick in the bathroom. He sat up quickly to go check on him, but he'd risen too quickly and the room spun for a good twenty seconds before Harry was able to slowly get to his feet.

He'd just reached the bathroom door when a knock from his main door halted him. He paused with one hand on the door knob to the bathroom. He knew he should see who was outside his room, but he really wanted to check on his friend, who had grown quiet.

“Liam?” he called out, and was relieved when Liam called back,

“Yeah?”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I'm good. I'll be out in a second.”

Nodding to himself, Harry let go of the doorknob and answered his other door. It was a hotel employee with a kart full of food. She greeted him with a large smile.

“Good morning! Free breakfast?”

“Oh, um, okay. Thanks…,” Harry said, moving back so that she could enter. He didn't expect her to have to make three trips to get all of the food onto the desk.

“Wait, all of this is for me?” he asked her. She nodded.

“Compliments from Louis, sir,” she added. Still in shock, Harry thanked her and she was on her way out the door when Liam exited the bathroom.

“Oh, awesome, food,” he said, immediately taking one of the plates the server had left and beginning to pile on the food.

“I was under the impression you weren't feeling well,” Harry commented, eyeing Liam with both worry and awe.

“Throwing up can do wonders,” Liam said nonchalantly.

_Don't I know it_ , Harry thought silently. He cleared his throat, but then a thought hit him, causing something to clench and knot up in his chest. Liam was already a self-destructive person, prone to addictions, if his observed behaviors were anything to go by, and who could really  eat a bunch of food right after being sick? 

_Bulimics._

Of course, the binging usually came before the throwing up for bulimics, but everyone with an eating disorder had a different experience and Harry knew more about the anorexia side of things anyway.

Plus, Liam had called himself fat last night…

“Liam?” Harry asked, his throat tight.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Liam answered, looking at Harry, confused.. “Why?”

“Is there anything you want or need to talk about?” Harry asked instead of replying. “You can tell me anything.”

“Um...I'm all good, Harry, but thanks. Now eat some breakfast.”

Harry didn't want to drop the topic, but he wasn't sure he was right about Liam and even if he was, he knew that you couldn't help someone who didn't want to be helped, so instead of pressing the matter further at that moment, he picked up a plate. At first, he went for the fruit, but then he stopped. Fruit didn't really sound that good right now, and besides, he was literally starving. Eating that would do nothing to curb his appetite. Of course, he wasn't used to actually letting himself get full, but he needed to right now. He needed to be full because that meant the sickness was losing.

Instead of the fruit, Harry chose a waffle. He added only a little amount of syrup, and he choked on the first couple of bites, but he kept forcing himself to eat it anyway, ignoring the screaming in his head.

Harry wasn't sure how much time had passed. He knew it was taking him way too long to eat this single waffle, as Liam was already done with his entire plate, but then there was a knock on the door.

“I'll get it!” Liam offered, and went to answer. Looking around his friend, Harry saw that their visitor was Niall.

“Oh, hi!” Niall said when he saw that it was Liam standing before him. “I just came to see how you were doing this morning.”

“I'm good,” Liam assured him. “Did you get breakfast sent to your room too?”

“Actually, I woke up early and so I went out and grabbed something with Louis.”

“Shhh!” Liam hushed loudly. “Don't let Harry hear that! Louis is his man.”

“Louis isn't my man!” Harry called. Niall laughed, entering the room as Liam moved to allow him to do so.

“Don't worry, I think Louis only has eyes for Harry anyway.”

“You are both ridiculous,” Harry commented.

“No, actually, I have a message to you from Louis,” Niall said, looking at him. Harry narrowed his eyes.

“No you don't.”

“I do!” Niall said after laughing again. Harry raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

“Fine. What is it then?”

“Louis told me to tell you that, should you desire to find him from now until two o' clock this afternoon, which is the extended check-out time, by the way, then his room number is 1224.”

Harry glared. Niall held up his hands.

“I'm serious, mate!”

After staring Niall down for another few moments, Harry sighed and headed out of the room.

“Don't you want to get dressed first?” Liam called out, as Harry was still only in his pajamas and socks.

“There's no need,” Harry said. “It's not like it's Louis's real room.”

  


***Louis***

Louis didn't know why he couldn't sleep. He'd stayed at the party until it was over and then had helped Beatrice, Dean and the hotel staff clean up. Then he'd posed for pictures with a couple of the hotel employees. He'd tried to sleep after that, but his mind just wouldn't shut off. Now that the 'tour kick-off' party was over, it was starting to hit him how close to a tour he really was, and he was nervous. He'd toured internationally before, but this was definitely going to be the biggest with the most dates in so many different places. It would be fine, and he would enjoy himself, but it was always nerve-wracking anyway. Not that it had happened yet, but Louis was awaiting the day when he would be booed off a stage and he had a feeling that this was going to be that tour.

Maybe if that happened, Harry would let him cry on his shoulder or something equally as cheesy and embarrassing.

After Louis and Niall had gone to breakfast, Louis went to his room to, again, attempt to sleep for more than the two-and-a-half hours he had gotten, but he was too keyed up still. That time, he knew it was probably because he had asked Niall to tell Harry his room number and was anxiously awaiting his visitation which he knew probably wouldn't come.

To try to distract himself, he put on _Titanic_. Even if the previous night had gone wonderfully, it was always a good time for _Titanic_ , Louis thought. It didn't matter how many times he watched the movie, he was immersed into it every time. Well, every time except that morning, when Louis was barely paying attention, eagerly hoping for a knock on the door..

When, finally, there was a knock, Louis jumped, but was grinning as he paused the movie, got to his feet and hurried to open the door. He told himself not to get his hopes up, knowing there was a good chance that it wasn't Harry on the other side, but he couldn't help but to be a little hopeful as he looked through the peep hole. His smile grew when he saw that it was, in fact, Harry waiting for him to answer.

“Hey!” Louis greeted, flinging open the door with slightly too much enthusiasm. Harry jumped, and then his face dropped and his eyes widened.

“Oh,” he said softly.

“Hi, Harry,” Louis greeted again, unsure what this reaction was all about but trying not to think about it too much. Harry was a peculiar man. “Come on in,” Louis continued, stepping back. Harry hesitated, but entered the room once he saw Louis trying to subtly hide himself behind the door. He didn't mind fan encounters, but that didn't mean he wanted people to know where he had been sleeping and showering.

“I thought Niall was playing a trick on me,” Harry spoke. “Otherwise, I wouldn't have come in pajamas.”

“No worries!” Louis assured the man. He looked absolutely adorable in his pajamas, Louis thought as the dancer ran a hand through his messy curls.

“Maybe I should go shower,” Harry said. Louis frowned, but made sure it was a quick thing, hopefully not even noticeable.

“If you want to,” he allowed. Harry nodded and turned towards the door which he'd just come in.

“Are you coming back?” Louis asked.

“Yeah,” Harry answered, and Louis wasn't sure if the pause was real or just in his head that time. Either way, Harry had said he was coming back, so Louis smiled.

“Good.”

When Harry came back, he was in a hoodie and jeans, his wet hair put up into a bun and a subtle amount of make-up on his face. Of course, he still looked adorable.

“Do you feel better?” Louis asked. Harry nodded.

“Good. Come on in again then.”

Harry did, following Louis as he walked back to his bed.

“Did you get breakfast delivered to your room?” the singer asked.

“Yeah. Thanks for that.”

“You're welcome. How is Liam doing?”

“He's good, I think.”

“That's good...I think. Did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah.”

“I'm glad.”

Louis tilted his head at Harry, still smiling as he took a seat on his bed without Harry following suit.

“You can sit,” Louis said. “I'm not going to start anything.”

It wasn't that Louis wouldn't want to start something, as Harry was gorgeous, but Louis wasn't the 'casual sex' type of guy, to be honest.

“Oh, I'm not worried about that,” Harry assured Louis, his face suddenly flushed. He took a seat though; on the edge of the bed, but it was a start.

“Are you sure I don't make you uncomfortable or annoy you?” Louis asked. Sure, Harry hadn't had to come by the room, but he was a hard guy to read. Louis didn't know how to take anything about the man. He wanted to learn, though.

“No,” Harry answered, looking startled at the question. “You don't. I'm sorry, I'm just awkward.”

“You're fine, Harry.”

Briefly, Louis contemplated making that a bad pick-up line, but quickly decided against it. Harry looked down to the bedspread, folding and unfolding his hands, and then his eyes roamed to the TV. When he saw the paused movie, he smiled.

“ _Titanic?”_ he asked.

“Don't judge me.”

“I'm not judging. I've actually never seen the movie.”

Louis's mouth dropped open, but he closed it quickly and then narrowed his eyes. When he didn't say anything, Harry turned to look at him and gave him a questioning look.

“Are you straight?” Louis asked. That question did it; it got Harry to laugh.

“I'm definitely not straight,” Harry assured him. “The opportunity to watch it just never arose, I guess.”

Typically, Louis would use this as an opportunity to tell Harry he should come over and watch it sometime, and he almost did-he wanted to-but Louis wasn't too proud to admit that he didn't do well with rejection and he felt there was a good chance that Harry might reject him, or, worse, accept without wanting to simply because he seemed like the guy that wanted everyone else to be happy above himself.

Instead of asking Harry for his number, or something along those lines, Louis said,

“What are you doing for the next two hours?”

“Um...I think I'm watching _Titanic_ with you,” Harry replied. Louis smiled and Harry returned it.

Louis started the movie over and as he did so, Harry actually got comfortable, putting his feet up on the bed and propping himself up against a pillow.

“I'm warning you, I'm an ugly crier,” Harry said as the opening credits began to play.

“My nose is a floodgate opening to a green river of goo when I get weepy, so you're in good company.”

Harry smiled, biting his lip as he fixed his hair and then focused his full attention on the movie. Louis resisted the urge to rest his head on the dancer's shoulder.

***Liam***

“Was that really Louis's room?” Liam asked Niall. He didn't think Niall would be the type to play such a cruel prank, but he really didn't know, and if it wasn't, then Liam was going to have to re-evaluate this whole friendship with Niall, which he really did not want to do.

“Yeah,” Niall answered, and Liam could tell he was genuine. He smiled.

“Harry is about to hate himself,” he commented.

“At least he looks cute in his pajamas.”

“Very true.”

After a moment of silence, Niall spoke again.

“It would be cool if Harry started something with Louis,” he said. “That would make a nice little love story.”

“Oh, so we have a hopeless romantic on our hands?” Liam asked, one eyebrow raise, partly endeared. Niall laughed.

“Maybe a little.”

“There's nothing wrong with that,” Liam assured him.

“You not so much then?” Niall asked. Liam gave him a look, figuring Niall should know the answer to that already.

“My love story would be for eighteen and over only.”

Niall rolled his eyes and shook his head, but the smile was still on his face.

“Do you have a boyfriend then?” Liam asked, figuring Niall must have a significant other if he was such a hopeless romantic. Even if he wasn't, he was definitely attractive enough that he likely had to have someone. Still, Liam found himself hoping that Niall's answer was no, which quite alarmed him.

“No boyfriend,” Niall said.

“Girlfriend?”

“Nope, I'm single for now.”

“I'm sure that will change soon,” Liam said, ignoring the feeling of potential relief running through his veins.

“Maybe,” Niall said.

“I'm going to get a shower,” Liam announced. He felt gross, and knew he couldn't look or smell the best either, which hadn't really bothered him up until that point.

“Alright,” Niall said, starting to stand from the desk chair, but the sound of a key being inserted into the hotel room door made them both freeze.

“You're evil!” Harry told Niall as he stumbled in, looking absolutely mortified. Liam felt bad for him, even if it was slightly hilarious.

“How am I evil?” Niall asked. “I warned you.”

“Oh my god,” Harry said, and then proceeded to quickly gather a pair of clothes and lock himself in the bathroom. With a small laugh, Liam stood, and Niall did as well.

“Are you on this floor?” Liam asked the other man. Niall told him that he was, so Liam told him he would walk him to his room. Niall let him.

“I know we said this last night, but I did really have a good time hanging out with you,” Niall commented once the two were standing outside of his bedroom door.

“I did too,” Liam assured him.

“Are you staying in the area until rehearsals start next week?” Niall questioned.

“I...don't know, actually,” Liam said. He had planned on staying with Harry, but he didn't want to over-stay his welcome.

“I'm crashing with one of the other back-up dancers who's a local,” Niall said, and then, “so maybe if you do stick around, we can meet up for lunch or dinner sometime before Wednesday?”

The familiar feeling of panic rose in Liam then. Not this question again.

“Not like a date, right?” he verified, holding his breath. Niall frowned.

“Well….no...”

Liam let himself breathe, although he wasn't quite as relieved as he felt he should have been. He almost felt…

Well, he wasn't going to concentrate on what he was feeling.

“Okay,” he said. “Yeah, that sounds good. I'll let you know when I figure out what I'm doing.”

“Great. Do you need my number?”

“I suppose that would help...”

The two both gave each other their phone numbers and Liam was trying not to smile too wide. Seriously, what was wrong with him? Must be an after-effect of the ecstasy…

“I'll see you soon then, Liam,” Niall said, sliding his phone back into his pocket once the other's number had been saved.

“Yeah,” Liam said, doing the same. “Either way, I'll see you soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, things are going to get a move on soon! I hadn't planned to be this many chapters in and still in the beginning stages of things, but events take a while when you're looking at them through four different POV's ;) I hope you enjoyed!


	8. Chapter 8

***Liam***

Liam was beginning to think Harry had forgotten about him when it was nearing two o' clock and his friend hadn't shown back up to his room yet. Of course, he couldn't blame the guy. If he had been in Louis T.'s hotel room, he probably would have forgotten about his slutty, hungover friend too.

At about quarter 'til, Liam heard the _ding_ of an elevator door being opened and feet shuffling and then Harry appeared around the corner, hurrying to his room, which Liam was sitting outside of with all of his luggage.

“Sorry,” Harry apologized. “Lost track of time. How long have you been sitting here?”

“Not long,” Liam lied. It had been close to an hour and he had been starting to regret rejecting Niall's offer for a ride anywhere, even though Liam had nowhere to go, really.

“I just have to throw a few things back in my bag and I'll be ready,” Harry said.

“No problem. I already checked out of my room. I'll help you.”

 

Harry checked out just in time to not have to pay for another night and he took a deep breath once in the car. Now that Liam's own nerves were settling, he smiled. It took Harry a minute to realize he was being stared down as he started to drive, but then he looked over at his passenger, giving him a questioning look.

“What?” he asked.

“'Lost track of time, eh?” Liam teased. Harry shook his head quickly.

“Nothing like that went on, Liam.”

“Well, how did it go?”

“Fine.”

“'Fine?' You spent the entire morning and part of the afternoon in your celebrity crush's hotel room and it was just 'fine?'”

“Like I said, nothing happened.”

“Okay, but you had to have done something unless you want me to believe you just sat and stared at each other for hours on end. Actually, that wouldn't surprise me too much, but I'm thinking that's not how it went.”

“We watched _Titanic_ and then ate some lunch,” Harry said.

“Did you go out somewhere?”

“No, we ordered room service.”

“That still counts as a date. Congratulations.”

“It wasn't a date,” Harry insisted. Liam smiled, but dropped the subject at that, not wanting to make his friend too uncomfortable. He was starting to think he was even worse with the whole 'dating' thing than Liam himself was.

Once the pair reached Harry's apartment, Liam started gathering the rest of his things, trying to decide if he should actually give sleeping with people for money a try instead of just joking about it so that he could stay in a hotel until leaving for tour. That way, he wouldn't have to go back to his aunt and uncle's, where he knew he would probably be invited back in, but was terrified of the other possible outcome.

Harry stayed out in his living room while Liam packed, giving the illusion that he was watching something on the television when he was very obviously spaced out, probably reliving his day with Louis over in his head. Liam didn't blame him, of course. He only hoped that Harry recognized that Louis really was interested in him soon. Liam could tell. He was good at reading those kinds of signals, and he felt that it was more than a sexual interest.

“Are you leaving?” Harry asked when he came back to reality and glanced up to see his friend heading to the door with all of his luggage.

“I've burdened you for too long. Thanks for letting me stay with you. I had a great time.”

“You haven't burdened me,” Harry said.

“You're too nice to tell me if I was,” Liam pointed out.

“You haven't been burdening me, Liam,” Harry said again. Liam just looked at him down the bridge of his nose, disbelieving. Harry continued, “I don't want to make you stay, but you don't have to leave if you don't want to, honestly. I really don't mind at all.”

“I don't even have money to give you for food or rent or anything else,” Liam said. He'd spent the rest of his graduation money from his mother getting to London.

At the statement, Harry just rolled his eyes.

“I'm not worried about it.”

“I can pay you back when we get our first checks from Louis,” Liam determined. “However much you want. You can have the whole thing, actually.”

“Liam,” Harry said flatly, “You can give me a little if it will make you feel better, but it's really, _really_ not necessary.”

“I don't like owing anyone anything,” Liam said.

“You don't.”

“Ooookay,” Liam sighed. He would still give Harry his first check, he knew.

“Stay,” Harry said. “We can watch a film or something.”

“Okay. Do you want to go out tonight?” Liam asked. “We can go to a free bar and get cute guys to buy us drinks. I didn't even get laid last night, man.”

“I think you have Niall to blame for that,” Harry said with a smile. Liam shrugged, making his way to the couch to sit next to the other dancer and leaving his bags at the door. Niall was worth missing one night of sex, he thought.

Liam had Harry pick the movie that time and as he searched for one and stuck it in the player, Liam sent Niall a text to tell him that he was staying in town with Harry. Niall replied almost immediately.

 _Sweet_ , he said. _Do you and Harry want to go to the mall with Zayn and me tomorrow? Zayn is the guy I'm staying with, but he's got no interest in sex or dating, so he won't try to get between Harry and Louis ;)_

Liam laughed out loud and when Harry gave him a strange look, probably thinking he was laughing at his movie choice- _Love, Actually_ -Liam quickly read Niall's text to him. Harry very obviously blushed as he shook his head.

“Louis doesn't want me,” he said.

“Yeah, right.”

“He doesn't, but yes, we can go to the mall tomorrow if you want.”

“Awesome,” Liam said, typing out his reply to Niall, telling him that they would meet them there. He added then, “But Louis does want you.”

 

When Harry and Liam went out that night, Liam had a quick fling with some guy in the back of the guy's friend's car. It wasn't the first time he had done that, and usually he found it quite enjoyable, but it was just okay that night. He didn't think it had anything to do with the man he was with. He was gorgeous, very skilled and quite flexible, but Liam was distracted. The conversation he'd had with Niall about being a hopeless romantic played over in his head. He wondered if Louis and Harry were a love story waiting to happen. He thought it was quite possible and hoped they would get a happy ending if so. Liam also wondered briefly if he had a love story waiting for him too, but he didn't ponder that thought long because it was ridiculous. Some people were destined to live fairy tales. Liam wasn't one of them.

***Harry***

Harry was glad that Liam decided to stay. He enjoyed Liam's company, but he also needed him around so that he wouldn't fall back to his old ways with food. Sure, he had sneaked around with Liam there before, but now that he actually felt guilty about it, he knew that he would end up making a mistake and getting caught, maybe accidentally-on-purpose. He just couldn't get caught and sent back to rehab. It really hadn't been all that bad, but Harry's life was just maybe starting to fall in place. He couldn't delay it again.

It was hard for him during the next few days to choke down three regular meals, especially when he knew he couldn't throw up, even if he was desperate. He did it though; he ate like a normal person would do, and he even forgot about his problem for a bit when he went to the mall with Liam, Niall and Zayn that Sunday.

Zayn had kept subtly making sure that Liam and Niall were beside each other, at one point even taking Harry off somewhere else so that the two could have 'alone time.' Harry couldn't help but to keep noticing how cute Liam and Niall were together. He even thought Niall had a good chance at being the one to finally get Liam to settle down a little bit.

During the next few days, Harry also paid more attention to Liam's eating habits, hoping that he had been wrong on his theory of Liam potentially having an eating disorder as well. Liam never gave him any concrete reason to believe he was right, so Harry began to feel a little better. He had a habit of finding issues in others that weren't necessarily there, which his previous psychologist had explained was a 'misery loves company' type of thing. Harry wasn't sure he believed that, because he didn't _want_ others to feel the pain he felt.

 

On Wednesday, the first day of rehearsals for tour, Harry was discouraged to find that his dance clothes fit too small on him now. Okay, so they weren't technically too small, but they were almost the same size as before Harry had started to relapse in his disorder, so they felt as if they were. He told himself that it wasn't true and that it was actually a good thing. It meant that he was healthy and had things under control. He was stronger, physically and emotionally.

Whether or not that was true, it was what Harry had to tell himself.

Before the rehearsal started, Harry had secretly hoped that Louis would be there as well, but he wasn't. That was just as well, though, because Harry didn't perform near his best that day and, again, the wonder and fear of what he was getting himself into resurfaced.

After dinner, Harry and Liam went back to Harry's to shower and then go to a pool party that Zayn had set up last minute at his parents' house. A pool party sounded like a terrible idea for Harry and he tried to use the excuse of being tired to get out of going, still offering to take Liam and pick him up, but Liam had said that he wasn't going if Harry didn't, and since it was obvious he really wanted to go, Harry said he would attend the party for 'just a little bit.'

The party was already in full swing when the two arrived. The pool was occupied by a good amount of people and Zayn was grilling out.

Niall found Liam almost as soon as the two entered and Harry used Liam's distraction as a chance to slip by and sit in a chair a good distance from the pool. He checked his phone, deciding to give himself a half an hour before he thanked Zayn and left.

Before he could put his phone away, he received a text from an unknown number. Frowning in confusion, Harry opened the message.

_Hi, Harry! It's Louis. I hope you don't care, but I got your number from Beatrice. How did the rehearsal go?_

The message made Harry smile, even though he figured it had to be a generated message that was sent to all dancers, personalized only by their names, but, looking around, he didn't see too many people on their phones, and those who were didn't look exceptionally excited, so he didn't think it would be a text from Louis that they were looking at.

Biting the inside of his cheeks so as not to smile even wider, Harry replied.

 _They went really well_ , he said, and didn't really expect another text-he still wasn't completely convinced the message wasn't automatically generated-but then his phone buzzed with a notification from the same, unsaved phone number.

 _Good. I can't wait to see what the choreographer came up with this year_ , the message read. Harry almost asked if Louis was planning to come to any of the rehearsals, but he didn't. Instead, he told Louis that he liked the dance routines and inside, thought to himself, _oh my god,_ _am I_ _really texting Louis?_

 _I'm glad you do_ , the singer replied next. _What are you doing tonight?_

 _A bunch of us are at Zayn's_ , Harry said.

 _I'm happy that you all seem to be getting on so well_ , Louis told him.

_Me too._

_Have fun! I'll talk to you soon :)_

_Have a good night_ , Harry responded. He saw that Louis read the message, but he didn't reply, and Harry slid his phone back into his pocket. When he looked back up, he saw that Liam was standing in front of his chair and jumped.

“How long have you been standing there?” he asked.

“Long enough to know that you were texting someone pretty special,” Liam answered, his facial expression unreadable.

“It was my sister,” Harry lied quickly.

“Uh-huh,” Liam said disbelievingly, but then changed the subject. “Come and get in the pool,” he said, and he'd clearly already been in the water because he was changed into his swim trunks, water dripping from his body.

“I didn't bring anything to swim in,” Harry told him. Liam gave Harry a look that hinted he thought the other man was a bit dumb.

“You knew this was a pool party,” he stated flatly.

“I think I left my swim trunks at my mum's,” Harry said, and he had, but had done so quite intentionally.

“Well, I guess you're swimming in your clothes then,” Liam said, moving forward quickly and scooping Harry up with no effort at all. Harry screamed.

“No! Liam, put me down!”

“Jeez, you weigh literally nothing,” Liam commented as he began walking to the pool with Harry in his arms.

“No!” Harry screamed again, in protest to both Liam's actions and his words. Harry's screams only got louder the closer Liam got to the pool as he clung to his friend's arms for dear life. He realized that almost everyone was staring and he could hear Niall laughing from where he was in the water.

“Liam!” Harry yelled as his friend got in stance to toss Harry in. “My phone is in my pocket! Don't!”

Liam paused, attempting to fish Harry's phone from his jeans while still keeping a hold of the man, but Harry gently smacked his hand away, causing him to sigh dramatically.

“Fine,” he said in defeat as he set Harry back to his feet. Almost immediately, Zayn made his way by, pushing Liam into the pool instead. Laughter erupted from almost everyone, and Harry stuck around long enough to make sure Liam came up for air before hurrying away to hide inside for the remainder of his thirty minutes.

When he went back outside to tell Liam that he was going home, Liam and Niall were playing a game of chicken against Fergus and the guy with blue in his hair that Liam had been planning to sleep with the night of the party before Niall had come into the picture. Not wanting to interrupt, Harry waited until Niall had knocked blue-hair-guy into the pool with a considerable amount of vigor before speaking.

“Hey, Liam, I'm going home,” he said. “Just text me later when you're ready for me to come back and get you.”

“You're leaving already?” Zayn asked from where he was sitting a few feet away with his feet in the pool.

“Yeah, I'm kind of tired. Thanks for having me over, though.”

“I can take Liam back later,” Niall offered.

“It's no trouble to come back and get him,” Harry said.

“I'll take him home,” Niall insisted.

“Okay,” Harry gave in. “I'll see you soon, Liam. Have fun. Thanks again, Zayn. Bye Niall.”

 

When Harry returned to his apartment, he checked his phone again, not expecting to have anything, but being surprised at another message from Louis's number. Since they had exchanged a considerable amount of texts, Harry saved his contact information and then read the message.

 _What do you think of the color pink?_ The message read. Okay then…

 _It's a nice color_ , Harry replied, even with the appeared randomness of the message.

 _Would you wear it though?_ Louis asked. Of course, Harry thought; he must be doing something that had to do with costumes for the shows.

 _Yeah_ , Harry said, both because he would and often did, but also because it was Louis's tour. He was just an employee.

 _What about flowers?_ Louis asked next. For just a moment, Harry wondered if Louis meant flowers in general, and his heart skipped a beat, but that was stupid.

 _I mean, would you wear something with flowers?_ Louis sent, verifying that Harry had been dumb in not knowing what he meant.

 _Yeah_ , Harry replied.

 _Cool_ , Louis said, and then sent yet another text. _Do you still work at the bakery?_

_Yeah, Saturday is my last day_

_Dean has been wanting another double fudge brownie, so I'll probably have to come in. Do you get a break?_

_Yeah, at 1._

_Ok. See you Saturday._

Harry tried not to count on it, but suddenly, he couldn't wait for the weekend.

At first, he almost forgot that Louis had said he would be in on Saturday, mainly because he'd convinced himself that the singer wouldn't come, but when the bell over the door chimed ten minutes before Harry's break, he saw Louis enter the shop and nearly gasped. He turned away from the door for a brief second so that Louis wouldn't see him smile.

“Hi, Louis,” Harry greeted quietly only once the man had reached the counter, not wanting to draw any attention to the famous singer, who had, so far, gone unnoticed.

“Hi, Harry!” Louis greeted with a smile. Harry returned it and then asked,

“So a double fudge brownie then?”

“Yes, and a tea, please.”

“What kind?”

“Black, please.”

“Hot or cold?”

“Cold.”

“Sugar?”

“Please.”

“How much?”

“However much is customary. I'm not a diva, Harry.”

Louis was smiling, so Harry smiled again too and then got Louis's order ready. The singer paid and tipped and then asked,

“Hey, are you doing anything on your break?”

“No. I usually just go for a walk.”

“Well, can I take just, like, five minutes of your time, if that? I have something to give you.”

“Sure…,” Harry said, trying not to get flattered. He knew it was just something for tour that the other dancers would get as well whenever they saw the singer again.

“Alright, cool. I'll be over at the corner table,” Louis said, nodding to the table he was talking about. Harry told him he would be over in a few minutes and then Louis went to sit. It was only then that Harry noticed a gift bag hanging from his wrist and he turned, hiding his smile from Louis again.

The next seven minutes went painfully slow, but, finally, he was let off for break. After grabbing a peanut butter bar for Louis, Harry hurried-but not too quickly-to where Louis had seated himself.

“Are you allergic to peanuts?” Harry asked to draw Louis's attention once he was close enough. “And do you eat sweets?”

“I'm not allergic to peanuts and yes I do eat sweets,” Louis said, looking confused at the questions, but smiling all the same. Harry suddenly decided he had to hate every single photo shoot in which Louis wasn't allowed to smile. Louis added, “I'm not _supposed_ to eat them, but I do.”

“Why aren't you supposed to eat them?” Harry asked, frowning as he took a seat across from the singer, still holding the bag with the peanut butter bar inside of it.

“Because apparently the only reason I have fans is because I can look decent shirtless,” Louis said, and Harry's frown deepened.

“That's not true,” he said. Harry had shamelessly had a picture of Louis shirtless on his wall a few years ago, but his gorgeous body and face weren't the only reasons he liked the singer. He liked his voice and music too, and Louis seemed like a genuinely good person.

“It's not true? I don't look decent shirtless?” Louis asked, and Harry's eyes widened.

“No! No, that's not what I meant.”

Louis smiled again.

“I was teasing.”

Harry was blushing.

“I think you can afford to eat one peanut butter bar if you want it,” Harry said, setting the treat down in front of the other man.

“Thank you,” Louis said. “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing.”

“I can pay you, Harry.”

“Obviously,” Harry said, smiling himself. “It's fine though. You have no idea how much business you got us with your tweet about the bakery.”

Louis's constant smile grew.

“Thank you,” he said again, and took a bite.

“This is amazing,” he said. “Did you bake it?”

Harry shrugged.

“It's not my recipe,” he answered indirectly. Louis gave him a strange look, but then laughed and took another bite.

“Okay,” he said after he'd chewed and swallowed. “I have a present for you too.”

Louis handed Harry the gift bag from across the table and Harry felt himself blushing again. He really hoped he got this under control soon or he wouldn't be able to face Louis after the tour. Not that he would have to worry about that, probably.

Harry pulled the tissue paper from the bag, revealing a wrap-around hair bun decoration; pink, flowered and sparkly.

“Don't feel pressured to wear it,” Louis spoke before he could gauge Harry's reaction. “I went shopping with my friend yesterday and she had one kind of like that in. I thought it was pretty, but I don't know anyone with long enough hair to wear it. I thought it kind of looked like you, but obviously I...I don't know, so don't feel bad if you don't like it.”

“I do like it,” Harry assured Louis, who seemed to relax a little.

“We can get more to match your tour outfits if you want,” he said. “But, yeah, you don't have to.”

Harry thought that Louis's cheeks had turned a little pink by that point and he smiled.

“I love it,” he said, and since he currently had his hair up in a bun, he put the decoration around it. “Does that look right?” he asked, turning his back to show Louis.

“Hold on,” Louis said, getting to his feet so that he could reach across the table and adjust the accessory a bit. “There.”

Harry turned back around and smiled again. It was really so hard not to smile around Louis.

“Thank you,” he said.

“You're welcome.”

Both men were silent as Louis finished his snack from Harry and as he was taking another drink of tea, a couple of women that looked to be around Harry's age approached shyly. Louis smiled invitingly and they walked over quicker, smiling and looking more relaxed, yet still ecstatic.

“Hi,” the darker haired of the two said. “Um...can we get a picture?”

“Sure, loves,” Louis answered and then turned to Harry. “Do I have peanut butter or chocolate on my face?”

“A little,” Harry admitted with a laugh.

“Where?” Louis asked, and Harry tried to show him, but Louis couldn't get it off for the life of him so, laughing more, Harry got a napkin from the front and helped him. The fans were watching, looking amused, yet curious.

“I can take the picture, if you want,” Harry offered once Louis's face was clean. The girls agreed, handing both of their phones to Harry. He took the pictures and made sure they approved before sitting back down, thinking of the picture Dean had taken of him and Louis at the party.

“Thank you so much,” the lighter haired girl thanked Louis. “You're amazing and so gorgeous.”

With a laugh, Louis thanked the lady as her friend turned to Harry.

“You're hot too,” she added. Both of the women giggled and Harry had to tell himself that they weren't making fun of him, they were just being polite.

After thanking Louis again, the two hurried off, glancing back a couple of times. Louis looked to Harry, smiling, of course.

“You, sir, may end up stealing my show,” he said.

“Right,” Harry said sarcastically. “Um, hey, what happened to that picture Dean took of you and me?”

“He sent it to me, but he didn't post it anywhere, don't worry.”

Harry nodded, but when he didn't say anything else, Louis asked,

“Do you want to see it?”

Harry nodded, so Louis pulled out his own phone and scrolled through it, holding it out to Harry once he found the picture. Harry had feared that, next to Louis, he would look even worse than usual, but he didn't. He was surprised by how happy he looked, actually. He was almost glowing, and he guessed that people weren't lying-his dimples really were pretty deep.

“I think it's a good picture,” Louis said. Clearing his throat, Harry nodded again, looking up at Louis's face.

“I guess I should let you go on your walk now,” the singer said. Harry checked the clock.

“I won't have time,” he said.

“Oh, sorry,” Louis apologized.

“No, it's fine,” Harry assured him. Typically, he would freak out a little at missing a chance for exercise, but how could he be upset about it when he'd spent the whole break with Louis, who gave him a present and let him wipe chocolate off of his face?

Both men stood.

“Have a good rest of your shift,” Louis spoke.

“Thank you. I hope you have a good day too, and thanks again for the bun accessory.”

“Thank you again for the peanut butter bar.”

The two said their goodbyes and then Louis left the shop. Harry finally breathed normally for the first time in over a half an hour.

Harry's smile, which was almost constant while he was around Louis, lasted for much of the day. It felt nice, but weird.

“Why are you smiling so much?” his boss had even asked at one point. Harry had quickly told her that he wasn't smiling, despite knowing that he was.

Just over an hour later, the bakery got pretty busy and Harry didn't think much of it until later, when he discovered that Louis had tweeted them again, this time giving a shout out to their peanut butter bars.

He'd also followed Harry back, but that wasn't too important of a detail, probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all know what I mean about the bun accessory. I don't know if they have a name and I tried to do research, but didn't find anything XD If they do have a legit name, please don't be afraid to tell me.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter is long.

***Niall***

The night of Zayn's pool party was the night that Niall was convinced he was in love. In the least, he was in the process of falling in love. It could be just his romanticism talking, he guessed, but he didn't think so. Though he was a self-proclaimed hopeless romantic, he had never been the guy who could fall head over heels for someone. He had dreamed of finding a love that made him feel that way from the time he was small, but he hadn't experienced it so far. In fact, he had always tried to tell himself that he should date whoever was interested in him, sure that he would fall in love somewhere along the way. That had yet to happen. He'd never had someone that kept him awake at night and he'd never, ever felt the 'butterflies' that everyone talked about.

Until that night, that was.

It was taking Liam a while to arrive at Zayn's party and Niall feared that he wasn't going to come after all. He supposed he could have missed him coming in, but he'd barely taken his eyes off of the back gate, where Zayn had instructed everyone to enter. Niall was just about to give up, get a drink and stick himself by Zayn's side the whole night when the gate opened and Harry walked through; Liam close behind.

Grinning, Niall forgot the drink and hurried over to say hello. After saying a quick, 'hi,' back, Harry slipped off, but Liam stayed, giving Niall a smile and asking where the food was. That smile made Niall's heart skipped a beat and he felt weird, but he felt good.

Somehow, even though Niall and Liam had been texting almost non-stop since Sunday afternoon, had spent hours together at the mall and had met up for lunch once, they still hadn't run out of things to talk about. As they ate, they talked about rehearsal and how it had just really started to hit them that they were professional dancers now, getting ready to go on tour with one of the most popular singers of the present. From there, they discussed the cities they were most excited to visit while on tour. When Niall mentioned how much he was looking forward to Paris, Liam rolled his eyes.

“Of course,” he said, a smile on his face. “The city of love.”

“So?” Niall asked, throwing a crisp at the other man. Liam laughed. His laugh was beautiful. The day was beautiful. Liam was beautiful.

Soon after eating, the two went inside to change into their swim trunks, both agreeing to get in the pool as soon as it cleared out a bit. Niall had figured Liam had a great body. Typically, in Niall's experience, there were two types of dancer bodies; super thin or super muscular. Niall was one of the rare ones that fell somewhere in the middle-he was thin, but not unbelievably so-but, if Liam's biceps were anything to go by, he was one of the extremely fit ones. (Besides, one didn't get a reputation such as his with mediocre essentials.) Still, Niall didn't think he had properly prepared himself to see Liam exposed in such a way.

“Damn,” he said out loud when his former classmate had exited the bathroom and rejoined Niall outside. He hadn't meant to verbalize his thoughts, but he didn't regret it when Liam smiled.

“What?” he asked, even though he clearly already knew what. Liam stood a little straighter.

“Nothing,” Niall said with his own, sheepish grin. The pool had cleared, and he was about to ask Liam if he was ready to get in-the thought of him exposed and wet was suddenly quite appealing-but before he got the chance, one of the other dancers approached; Jakob. Niall felt that he was soon going to despise this guy and his black-and-blue hair.

“Hey, Liam,” Jakob said, standing close enough to 'accidentally' brush Liam's arm with his. “Hey, Niall,” he added, seemingly like an afterthought. Niall didn't bother to return the greeting as Liam did.

“You look hot,” Jakob told Liam. “Do you want a drink?”

Niall couldn't help but to roll his eyes. _Lame._

“Sure,” Liam said, because of course he did.

“Come on.”

Jakob walked away and Liam followed, but not before turning to make sure Niall was coming too, and of course Niall was. He wasn't the type to give up easily. He'd let Liam slip by one time and wasn't going to do it again.

Actually, as he was kind of a coward, Niall probably wouldn't be making a real move anytime soon, but still. He wasn't going to give up all hope just like that.

Jakob hung around for an annoyingly long time, getting Liam another drink as soon as his cup was empty and scooting closer with every minute that passed until he was continuously brushing against Liam's arm, hip or stomach 'by accident.' It was almost nauseating, and Niall had an almost irresistible urge to push him into the pool, but then Liam spoke up to suggest they swim, and Niall somehow had the strength to refrain from shoving Jakob off of the diving board.

Once in the pool, Liam stayed close to Niall just like Jakob had stayed close to him. Niall may have developed a semi-permanent smirk on his face, and it only grew when the dark haired man got frustrated and went to find his next target; Fergus. Niall hoped Jakob knew that he was straight.

Actually, it would be more amusing if he didn't.

A few moments after Jakob left, Liam got out of the pool to go and get Harry. When he came back, he was holding the other dancer, who was screaming at the top of his lungs as Liam prepared to throw him in the pool.

“Liam! My phone is in my pocket! Don't!” Harry pleaded. Liam hesitated and then attempted to swipe the phone from Harry's jeans, but he failed, so was then forced to set the man down in defeat. No sooner than Harry's feet were on the ground did Zayn appear from nowhere and take revenge for the guy by pushing Liam into the water. Niall, who had already been laughing over the whole ordeal with Harry, burst into laughter along with everyone else in the surrounding area, but when Liam popped up, coughing and sputtering quite dramatically, Niall made sure to rush over.

“Are you alright?” he asked, still giggling as he threw his arms around Liam's neck. It was necessary, really. He only needed a closer observation to assure that Liam hadn't swallowed too much water.

“I'm fine,” Liam said with a smile, and Niall felt him place his hands on his waist. He was very glad that he was in a cold pool.

“Race you to the other side!” Liam said after a few moments of them maintaining that position and staring into each other's eyes. With that, he broke free from Niall and kicked himself off.

“That's cheating!” Niall called, and began to swim after him.

Niall and Liam only got two rounds of racing in before Jakob had returned with Fergus close by, declaring a game of chicken. Admittedly, Niall had been annoyed at the return of the other man, but quickly became excited at the prospect of throwing Jakob to a watery doom.

It all happened as Niall had hoped. He took his position on Liam's strong shoulders while Jakob got on Fergus's. It probably should have been Fergus at the top on Jakob's, as he was closer to Niall's build and Jakob to Liam's, but Niall felt that both he and Jakob had the same goal with this game.

He grew a bit nervous as the game began, realizing there was a great likelihood of Jakob being much stronger than he was, as if the winner of this game would also be the winner of Liam's heart, but luck seemed to be on his side anyway; or at least sheer adrenaline because it didn't take him long at all to knock Jakob into the pool, creating a satisfyingly loud 'splash.' The look of shock and fear on his rival's face as he fell was going to make for a pretty great memory too.

At their success, Liam cheered loudly, moving so that Niall fell from his shoulders and into his arms. Niall smiled up at him and Liam returned it.

“Congratulations,” he said.

“Thanks for not dropping me,” Niall replied. Liam smiled, but then Harry spoke from off to the side of the pool, announcing that he was going home but would be back later to pick Liam up. Niall assured Harry that wouldn't be necessary, as he would take the guy home, and, after saying their goodbyes, Harry left.

“Well, I guess it's just me and you now,” Liam commented when his friend walked away, despite the fact that there were quite a few guests at this party. For the time being, it was almost like it was just them, as the pool had emptied to make room for their chicken tournament. After receiving a humiliating defeat, their opponents had also fled. Niall smirked.

“Try to catch me!” Liam said after setting Niall upright in the pool, and then he took off again. Niall already knew that he was going to like this game a lot more than the racing one.

The two swam, chased each other and attempted water ballet until Niall noticed Liam's lips turning blue and insisted that they get out. As they jumped out of the pool, Liam was shivering and his teeth were chattering, and Niall was about to offer him his towel when, from his repossessed position in the pool, Jakob spoke.

“Hey, Li, I can warm you up if you want.”

The black haired man winked and Liam looked down the bridge of his nose at him before taking a nearby pool noodle and hitting the other in the head with it. Jakob didn't seem offended and used the same noodle to smack Liam in the bum as he and Niall walked away. Liam laughed, turning to smile at Jakob for only an instant, his hips swaying just a bit more than before.

 _It's really on now, Jakob_ , Niall thought silently.

After finding their towels and drying off a bit, Liam and Niall got some more to eat and drink. Niall realized he should have known better than to offer Liam a drink when the dancer downed four by the time he'd finished one plate of food. Not that he minded if Liam got tipsy. Liam could do what he wanted, of course, but Niall was quite fond of the sober Liam as well.

Zayn's parents had a hot tub to go along with their pool, which was pretty empty since the day itself was hot enough, and so Niall and Liam decided to get in with their second and fifth drinks, respectively. Liam was pretty gone by that point, and the hot water did nothing to help that matter.

“So sleepy,” he yawned, positioning himself so that he could rest his head on Niall's shoulder.

“Do you want to leave?” Niall questioned.

“No,” Liam said, so Niall just let him lay on him. He quite enjoyed that he was doing so, in fact, but when Zayn noticed that one of his guests was nearly passed out in his hot tub, he took it upon himself to pour a cup of cold pool water on the tired man's head. Liam yelped, almost making Niall go temporarily deaf.

“Niall!” Liam shrieked, swimming around to hide behind the smaller man. “Protect me, Niall! Save me from the bad man!”

Niall wasn't going to take that request lightly, so he grabbed an empty water bottle that someone had carelessly left by the edge of the hot tub and chucked it at Zayn's head.

“Ack! I've been wounded!” Zayn yelled, a huge smile on his face as he ran away, still screaming. Niall laughed, but sobered quickly when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his middle and a face rest itself against his back.

“Thank you,” Liam said.

“Any time,” Niall assured Liam. He expected Liam to say something else or, in the least, move after that, but Liam just stayed there, hugging Niall silently from behind. Once a somewhat strange amount of time had passed, Niall looked over his shoulder to see that the other man had fallen asleep, and he laughed again.

“Oh, Liam,” he said to the unconscious man, and carefully got them both into a more comfortable position so that Liam could continue to sleep.

It wasn't too much longer when Niall started to feel himself overheating and knew that Liam must have been too, considering how much more alcohol he'd consumed than Niall. Reluctantly, he woke Liam up and they got out.

Deciding that they were done in the pool for a while, the two changed back into their regular clothes and then laid out their beach towels in the grass so that they could lay on them. They both started out on their backs, gazing up at the sky, but then Liam groaned, rolling over onto his side closer to Niall and flinging an arm over his friend's stomach.

“Do you want to go home so that you can sleep?” Niall asked.

“No,” Liam said.

“Okay.”

“I'm sorry I always get drunk,” Liam said then.

“It's okay,” Niall assured the man. He felt as if there was probably a better response, but the words had surprised him, so he was at a loss for what that might be right then.

“I really like being around you,” Liam continued.

“I like being around you too,” Niall replied.

“I'm glad you came back into my life.”

Niall could say the same back to Liam again, but instead, he leaned down and placed a very soft kiss onto the top of the other man's head. Liam only moved closer, taking Niall's hand as he, again, fell asleep.

 

Finally, once there was no more sunlight left, people started to leave. After all, they did have rehearsal again in the morning.

Liam and Niall joined those leaving and by that time, Liam was pretty sober; just sleepy. Still, he was able to keep up a conversation with Niall while giving him directions to Harry's place and, once they arrived, Niall walked him to the door.

“Thank you for driving me back,” Liam said.

“You're welcome. I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see you.”

With a sleepy smile, Liam took a key out of his pocket and let himself into Harry's.

“Bye,” he said again before he shut the door, and Niall offered a smile and a wave.

All the way home, Niall thought about Liam. He smiled the entire time. He knew the guy wasn't perfect. He drank what was probably, arguably, too much and was no doubt a heart breaker, but Niall couldn't help but to hope that he would be able to get the other to settle down just a little. Maybe he could be the one that Liam would finally commit to for more than just a few random nights.

Niall found that he had a really hard time sleeping that night.

***Louis***

The Monday after his tour rehearsals had started, Louis had a meeting with Dean. He wasn't sure what it was about; Dean had only scheduled it suddenly the day before. The randomness of the event had him nervous, and those nerves only grew when Dean greeted him flatly and then folded his hands and stared for a good half a minute before beginning.

“I have your next boyfriend in place,” the older man said.

“Another fake boyfriend, I'm assuming?” Louis verified. Dean nodded, suddenly looking as nervous as Louis had felt only moments ago. The singer groaned loudly.

“I'm tired of fake dating!” he said, doing his best not to let his voice turn to a whine. “I want to focus on my real love life!”

“It will be with a new singer I just signed on a couple weeks ago,” Dean said. “It won't be anything intense. In fact, he's straight! I just want to get all of your fan base interested, and then when the news of his heterosexuality is released, maybe there will be some guys who will actually agree to go to his shows and whatnot with their girlfriends.”

“So, basically, you want a heterosexual version of me that is homophobe safe?”

Louis quirked an eyebrow as Dean's face fell.

“No, Louis, it's not like that, mate. I don't think Josiah-that's his name-is going to be as commercially successful as you, so you don't have to worry, but don't you want to help a fellow artist out? Don't you remember what it was like to be struggling on the ladder to fame?”

“I remember and I wish him the best, but I can't do it, Dean.”

“Why not, Louis?”

Dean's hands were still locked tightly together, propped under his chin as he stared at Louis, trying to look curious and concerned, but Louis could see the fear in his eyes. He was afraid that, for once, Louis wasn't going to let himself be a puppet.

“Do you know how long it's been since I've had a real boyfriend?” Louis asked.

“Two years, three months and two days,” Dean answered right away, shocking Louis, who did a quick mental count to see if that was accurate, which it was. Dean continued, “How could I forget that tragic day?”

“Anyway,” Louis said, his cheeks burning. He knew he hadn't handled his last-and only-break-up well, and now that those wounds had healed, he didn't need to be reminded of how he'd made Dean end a meeting prematurely so that he could cry on his office floor and ask why men never stuck around with him. “I want to get back out there, in the dating field. I'm ready for it now.”

Dean's eyes turned to slants for just a moment and he unfolded his hands as he rested them on the table.

“Is this about that dancer?” he asked.

“He has a name,” Louis said.

“Harry,” Dean verified.

“Maybe, partly,” Louis answered his manager's former question. “I don't know if that will go anywhere or not, but I just want to find someone.”

“It's only going to be for a month and a half,” Dean spoke, his voice softer. “Once your tour starts, you and Josiah are going to go your separate ways and later Josiah will say that you two were always just friends and that he is straight. Nothing will ever be confirmed. I just want the two of you to go out and have genuine fun together. The rumors will begin themselves, as they typically do.”

“I don't know,” Louis sighed, and then wondered when his answer went from 'no' to 'I don't know.' He was truly a push-over, he was realizing. He went on, “I think I definitely won't have a chance with Harry….with anyone...if he thinks I'm taken or just got out of a relationship.”

“Well, to be fair, Louis, this stunt could be beneficial to you too,” Dean said, looking at the other man sympathetically. Something unpleasant twisted inside of Louis.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You still have several tour dates that have yet to sell out.”

“Yeah, because the tickets are too expensive! I told Beatrice that. They're ridiculously priced and-”

“We've sold tickets at the same price for artists who are far less successful than you are,” Dean interrupted. “People are getting bored, Lou.”

“In that case, I can get a real boyfriend and they can all talk about that.”

“Too risky,” Dean decided right away with a shake of the head. “We need something quick. Come on, Josiah is a great guy. Please, Louis. It could save your career.”

“My career is fine!”

“Yeah, for now you're doing okay, but you could be doing better.”

Louis swallowed against the lump in his throat. He saw the numbers; he knew he was doing more than just 'okay,' even if he didn't have a completely sold-out tour. Dean was just trying to hit him where he knew it would hurt but, damn it, it was working.

“Fine,” Louis said after more than a minute had passed, his voice weak. He hated himself for even giving in, but failure was his second biggest fear behind rejection. Actually, the two may just in fact be tied. He didn't want to prove _those people_ from his past right. He didn't want to be worthless.

Sensing that he had been emotionally wounded, Dean made sure to soften his tone again and tell Louis what a wonderful artist he was and how much what he was doing was going to mean to Josiah. He got him to sign the contract immediately, told him that he loved him like a son and then sent him on his way.

“Oh, but Louis?” Dean said as the singer opened the door to his office. Louis turned to him, too drained to speak anymore.

“You might want to consider hitting the gym again,” Dean said. “You and Josiah have a beach outing in a couple of weeks and I'm sure you want to be in tip-top shape.”

 

_I'm in trouble._

Louis typed out the message and then debated for only a few moments before sending it to Harry. Though more than twenty-four hours had passed since his meeting with Dean, Louis was still feeling down from it and that was the only way he could think to cheer himself up besides a tub of ice cream, which was, apparently, forbidden.

After sending the message, Louis kept an eye on his phone to see if Harry opened it and then if he was replying. The dancer opened it almost right away but kept pausing during his reply. When he finally sent something, it was a simple question mark.

 _Dean wants me to get in better shape,_ Louis explained. _I have no motivation. You're into fitness, right??_

 _Kind of..,_ Harry replied about a minute after he read the message. Not that Louis was still staring at his phone or anything…

_Do you have a break from rehearsals tomorrow?_

_Yeah._

Louis thought so, as he was typically on the same rehearsing schedule as the dancers.

 _Want to go hiking with me in the morning?_ He typed. _I know this trail that is really nice and private, so no cameras :)_

_Ok, sure_

Louis smiled.

_Do you want me to pick you up?_

_If you want. Or we can meet there. Doesn't matter._

_I'll pick you up. Is 9 ok?_

_Yeah_

Still smiling, Louis locked his phone. He wanted to reply and keep the conversation going all night, but he was out of things to say. Besides, he needed his sleep if he was actually going to get up and do this tomorrow, so he set the phone on his nightstand and closed his eyes.

 

Liam answered Harry's door the next morning. He was just in his boxers, his hair a mess and his eyes bloodshot, but once the evident shock wore off his face when he saw that it was Louis who had knocked, a huge smile took place across his lips.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hey, Liam,” Louis said with his own smile.

“Are you here for Harry?” Liam asked.

“Yeah.”

“Come on in. I'll see what's taking him so long.”

Louis stepped in and shut the door behind himself while Liam went down the hall yelling Harry's name. Politely, Louis stayed by the door. He heard Harry and Liam's voices talking back and forth, but couldn't hear what they were saying (not that he tried hard to figure it out) and within the minute, Harry was walking towards him.

“Hi, sorry,” he said, looking spectacular in his yoga pants, t-shirt, light makeup and messy bun.

“No need to apologize,” Louis assured him.

“I'm ready,” Harry confirmed.

“I didn't realize you lived with Liam,” Louis said. “Do you think he would want to come?”

Louis was trying to be polite, of course. He liked Liam from what little he knew of him, but he wasn't too fond of him and Harry potentially being a couple. He had never got that vibe from them, but it wasn't like he was a love expert by any means. He couldn't even tell when someone was or wasn't in love with him.

“Yeah, Liam is staying with me for a bit, but I don't think he'll really feel like coming. He had a long night.”

“Oh,” Louis said, selfishly hoping it wasn't Harry with whom Liam had a long night.

“Anyway, are you ready?” Harry asked. Louis said that he was and the two left.

 

“Do you want to go the long way or the short way?” Louis asked when they arrived and he'd parked in the available lot.

“It doesn't matter,” Harry said.

“The long way it is, I guess,” Louis sighed. “I don't really want to, but I also don't want Dean to have my head, so...”

“Looks are really important in this industry, aren't they?” Harry asked. Louis shrugged.

“I guess so,” he said. “I'm not sure why, but...”

He shrugged again, and then dropped the subject by reaching into his backpack and handing Harry the bottle of water he had brought for him.

“Did you always want to be a dancer?” he asked as they began their hike.

“Yeah,” Harry answered. “Pretty much.”

“I'm glad you're getting a chance to live your dream.”

“Yeah, thanks to you,” Harry said with a small smile.

“You would have gotten an opportunity even without me,” Louis assured the other. “It comes so naturally to you.”

Louis saw Harry blush as he reached up to scratch his ear, and the singer resisted the urge to hold his hand.

The hike was actually going very smoothly-Louis was barely even out of breath-and he and Harry kept up a conversation nearly the whole time. Even during the times when they weren't speaking, it was nice to just have each other's company, at least in Louis's opinion. Harry seemed relaxed, in terms of Harry, so he guessed that he felt the same way.

Then, Louis stepped on a rock and, somehow, his feet slid out from under him and he fell to the ground, letting out a scream loud enough to make birds shriek and flee from the trees.

To his honor, Louis could feel that Harry made a grab for him, but missed, leaving Louis getting a face full of dirt.

“Oh my god!” Harry said, kneeling next to the singer, his face showing nothing short of fear. “Are you okay?!”

Half embarrassed and half in awe at himself for never failing to ruin a perfectly good time, Louis burst into laughter. He laughed so hard he nearly cried. That did nothing to ease Harry's worry.

“Are you laughing to cover the fact that you're in pain or do you genuinely find this funny…?” the dancer asked, and Louis snorted.

“May-Maybe both,” he said, and took a few more moments to compose himself. Once his laughs and then his giggles had subsided, Louis got to his feet, Harry hurrying to support him.

“Are you okay?” the younger man asked again.

“I'm fine,” Louis said. “Sorry, I should have warned you that this section of the trail is highly dangerous.”

“Dangerous? Didn't you trip over your own feet?”

“No!” Louis exclaimed, appalled that Harry would think such a thing. “I tripped over that miniature boulder right there!”

Louis pointed and Harry looked to see the offending rock, that was really just a bit larger than a pebble. The dancer smiled.

“Wow, these are such treacherous grounds,” he said.

“I know!” Louis agreed. “In fact...”

The singer trailed off and moved swiftly to scoop Harry off his feet and into his arms, like a bride. Harry gasped.

“What are you doing?” he asked, holding tight to the front of Louis's slightly gross shirt.

“I must protect my tiny dancer's precious feet and ankles,” Louis reasoned.

“I know I'm not tiny,” Harry said.

“You're tallish...Everyone is tall to me, pretty much...But you're still pretty tiny,” Louis disagreed. “It's not an insult,” he added.

“I don't think I'm in danger,” Harry said.

“Didn't you just see me fall?! That could have been you!”

“Um...Well...You see...The thing is...I'm not...How should I say this...a klutz, so...”

Louis gasped, feigning offense again. Harry smiled, his eyes locking with Louis's for just a moment before he looked away and squirmed.

“Put me down before I break you.”

“Damn, Harry, I know I'm not in the best shape, but I can lift a tiny dancer and carry him across dangerous grounds for at least a few minutes before my lungs collapse and my heart explodes.”

Harry glared. Louis smiled.

“I'll set you down when we get back to safety, your highness.”

Still, Harry glared, and continued to do so for a while, but, finally, he started to relax. He even let go of Louis's shirt to wrap his arms around the singer's neck instead.

“Thank you, my hero,” Harry said grandly once Louis had set him back on his feet a few minutes later, the younger man clutching his heart with fake emotion.

“My pleasure, sir,” Louis replied, tucking a stray piece of hair behind Harry's ear. The dancer blushed and Louis felt his own cheeks growing hot as well. Perhaps he should have put on more sunscreen.

Without even thinking about it, Louis felt his body gravitating towards Harry, but before he could get too far into the man's personal bubble, he jolted himself back and cleared his throat. He wanted to kiss Harry, and he wanted to do so badly, but now, in the middle of the woods when he was Harry's ride home to his possible boyfriend, was not the time.

“We're a little over halfway done now,” Louis said, turning away from Harry and beginning to walk on. Slowly, Harry started to follow.

Despite Louis's potentially fatal almost-mistake, the rest of the hike was enjoyable, as was the car ride home. It was only after Louis had told a pretty bad joke and Harry actually _laughed_ that Louis couldn't stop himself from asking the question.

“So is Liam your boyfriend?”

“What? No!” Harry said, sounding alarmed. “No, no, no.”

“Damn, okay then,” Louis said with an amused and a relieved laugh.

“Nothing against Liam,” Harry said. “I just don't think I'm quite experienced enough for him.”

Louis laughed again. It seemed as if a weight was lifted from him. He suddenly found himself about to tell Harry of his upcoming press stunt so that the other guy would know he was single and very available, just in case, but the singer very literally bit his tongue. Telling Harry that could get him in pretty big trouble and, besides, he had no actual reason to believe that Harry cared anyway. All Louis could really do was hope that everything worked out for the best in the end because he couldn't deny that he really, really liked Harry. He had known that he liked him for a while but just realized how much that morning.

Unfortunately, Josiah sucked up all of Louis's time for the next few weeks. The only free time he had was for sleeping and Louis wanted to use that time to text Harry instead, but he didn't know what to say to him. He didn't want to seem like a two-timer now that he and Josiah were plastered on nearly every entertainment website and magazine. Even though the two had never stated that they were together, people came to their own conclusions, and usually it was the wrong one. Harry had probably determined the same thing, and Louis felt kind of sick thinking of how he had possibly messed up an opportunity for great things, but he guessed that was the life he had signed up for. He knew the industry he was in didn't care about anyone's happiness. All they cared about were sales and stunts.

***Harry***

Harry was almost too embarrassed to face Liam, Niall or even Zayn, whom he knew the two others had informed about his 'crush' on Louis. How had he started to think that Liam was right in saying that Louis was interested in him as well? He hadn't been able to deny that he was being treated differently than the other dancers when he found out that neither Liam, Niall nor Zayn had Louis's phone number, but now, Harry concluded that the singer must have been bored and sensed that Harry was vulnerable.

But now Louis had a boyfriend. He wasn't bored anymore and Harry no longer heard from him at all.

“They haven't confirmed anything,” Liam pointed out while scrolling through the internet with Harry and a picture of Louis and his new 'boy'-Josiah Wells-popped up.

“They don't have to,” Harry said.

“Aren't they signed with the same label?” Liam continued. “It might just be a press stunt to get Josiah's name out there to the public."

“People don't really do that,” Harry said.

“Yeah they do.”

“They look happy together though.”

“Are you kidding?” Niall asked from Liam's other side on the couch. “Louis's eyes are dead.”

“Yeah. He's looking at his hot dog in that picture right there with more lust than the guy he's with.”

Despite feeling like crap, that got Harry to laugh a little bit.

“That's probably because his manger was making him starve himself.”

Harry suddenly thought of the lunch he just had not too long ago and felt sick.

“Well, anyway, just fight for your man,” Liam piped up.

“There's no competition!” Harry exclaimed. “Josiah is rich and beautiful.”

“He's not rich yet,” Liam said.

“And I think you're more attractive than he is, to be honest,” Niall said, looking at Harry, who rolled his eyes.

“You are,” Liam agreed with the blonde. “You're a lot more attractive than him, actually.”

“You two are so sweet,” Harry said, patting each on the cheek gently.

“It's true,” Liam insisted.

“Harry, Louis is a giggly, smiley unicorn when he's around you and with this Josiah bloke, it looks like he's a man on death row,” Niall said.

“A unicorn,” Liam snorted, but then nodded and said, “That's true. If Louis is really involved with this guy, it won't be hard to get him away from him.”

“Even if that were true, it wouldn't be right to just steal him away.”

“Yeah it would because you and Louis are soul mates,” Niall said.

“Trust him, he's a romantic,” Liam said. Before Harry could even think of a response to their ridiculous statements, Liam clapped his hands loudly, causing both of his friends to jump.

“We're going out tonight,” the party boy said.

“Okay…,” Harry agreed, mainly because it was a much welcomed change of topic, even if it was quite abrupt. Not another word was said about Louis or Josiah.

That night, Liam insisted on dressing Harry and put him in a tight black shirt and ripped blue skinny jeans that belonged to Zayn, whom they'd invited along.

“I look fat,” Harry stated as he looked in the mirror. Liam, Niall and Zayn all looked to him quickly, alarmed.

“You look nowhere near fat,” Zayn said. Like Liam and Niall, Zayn was so sweet.

Liam also forced Harry to leave his hair down that night, using product to put some stylish muss in his curls. He did let Harry do his own makeup, but insisted on picking the shades. Naturally, he chose the darker shades that Harry rarely wore, as he thought they drew too much attention to him.

“You look amazing,” Liam complimented once his friend was all ready to go.

“I look ridiculous,” Harry disagreed.

“Do not. Come on, we have to take a picture!”

“I'll take it,” Zayn offered.

“No, Zayn, you get in the picture. I'll take it,” Harry offered.

“Nope,” Zayn said, accepting the phone Liam handed to him and, wait, wasn't that Harry's phone?

Before Harry could question it, Liam was dragging Harry over to stand in the middle of him and Niall. Though he felt uncomfortable, Harry posed, knowing he could untag himself should the picture be uploaded anywhere later.

“Hey, Harry, Louis follows you on Twitter, right?” Liam asked as Zayn handed him the phone back.

“Yeah…,” Harry said and then, upon noting that it was, in fact, his phone that Liam was holding, asked, “What are you doing?!”

“Nothing,” Liam said, speeding up his process before locking Harry's phone and handing it back to him. Of course, Harry quickly re-unlocked it and went to his Twitter to see that the picture had been uploaded along with the caption, 'Single and ready to mingle!'

“Liam!” Harry shrieked.

“Don't delete it!” Liam said, snatching Harry's phone away as he went to do just that.

“How did you get my pass code?!”

“Is it Louis's birthday?” Zayn teased.

“No,” Liam said with a snort. “I just have my ways.”

“Give me my phone!” Harry demanded, though it wasn't very threatening, as he sounded like a scared child.

“Calm down. Jealousy is a miraculous thing sometimes, Harry, and we're making Louis jealous tonight.”

“He's not going to be jealous!”

“You already have three comments,” Liam said. “'OMG, Harry, you look stunning! 'Beautiful boy.' 'Hey babe, where you going tonight? Maybe we can meet up.'”

Since Liam had relaxed into reading the comments, Harry took that as an opportunity to snatch his phone back.

“Don't delete it!” Liam said again.

“I won't for now,” Harry said, not sure if he was going to keep true to that promise or not. “Later tonight, it's gone.”

“Whatever.”

 

To no one's surprise, Liam was drunk within the first hour of arriving at the club. Niall and Zayn got a bit tipsy themselves, but Harry didn't drink, despite the fact that he wasn't the driver for the night. If Louis with the amazing body had to work to get in shape for tour, then Harry _really_ had to.

He wondered what Josiah's workout routine was.

Niall and Liam spent most of their time on the dance floor, never separating, but Zayn stuck by Harry's side almost the whole night, despite Harry telling him he could go off and have fun.

“I'm having fun with you,” Zayn had said. Harry didn't believe him, but he didn't want the guy to think he was trying to get rid of him, so he didn't argue.

The one time Zayn did disappear besides to make a run to the bathroom, he reappeared after only a couple of minutes with two drinks, one of which he placed in front of Harry.

“It's a lite,” he said. Harry wasn't sure he believed him, but he took a sip anyway to be polite. Zayn watched him intently. Harry straightened up self-consciously.

“You're beautiful, Harry,” Zayn commented.

“Thanks…,” Harry said suspiciously. Zayn moved closer so that his forehead was nearly pressed against Harry's.

“You don't know how beautiful you are though, do you?” he asked. Harry only stared. Zayn must be really drunk because he thought he wasn't interested in sex or dating. Unless that was what he told everyone to protect himself.

The two stood in that position for what should have been an awkward amount of time, but, really, Harry was just confused. Finally, Zayn backed up, gave a wink and then sauntered away, sipping on his beverage.

Only seconds later, Harry's phone gave a _ding_ , and Harry saw that he had a Twitter notification stating that Niall had mentioned him. Wondering what in the world that could be, Harry opened his app to see a picture of him and Zayn from only moments ago, when they had been nearly touching and looking in each other's eyes, along with the caption, '@zaynmalik trying to dance his way into @harry.styles heart! The @louist91 tour is about to heat up!'

Harry shrieked right there at the bar.

“Chill!” Niall said from his hiding spot a couple tables away. He and Liam stood and made their way over.

“You mentioned him!” Harry cried and probably received a strange look from the bartender, but he didn't care. “He's going to see that!”

“That's the point.”

“Won't him thinking I have a boyfriend make him stay away? What exactly is this accomplishing?”

“Well, right now, Zayn is clearly just pursuing you,” Niall said calmly. “That will show Louis that he needs to make his move soon.”

Harry turned to slam his head down on the bar (a bit harder than actually intended) and say goodbye to any last hope that he would ever be with Louis.

 

The next day, Louis was at the rehearsal. Zayn was staying purposely close to Harry, partly to keep up the stupid 'make Louis jealous' mission, but also because he was very obviously worried. Harry was pale and shaky and clearly not feeling well that day, but he wished Zayn wouldn't worry. He'd told him that he was just coming down with a cold.

Before rehearsals started, when Harry and Zayn were just chilling rather closely on one of the couches in the lobby, Louis approached.

“Hi, Harry,” he said and then, “Hey, Zayn.”

The two said their hellos and Louis gave Harry a brief smile before looking at Zayn, his smile disappearing as he glanced the man up and down.

“Did you have fun last night?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Harry answered simply.

“It was a really good time,” Zayn added, smiling. If Harry had a single violent bone in his body, he probably would have punched him. Okay, smacked him. Alright, he would have only poked him, but he would have poked him very hard.

“Good,” Louis said in response. “Good luck,” he added after a slightly awkward pause, and he walked away before receiving a reply. From their spot not too far away, Niall and Liam gave the two a thumbs up, and then Liam proceeded to hump the air rather obscenely.

 

Louis didn't have much of a dance routine to do. He was only needed at rehearsal so that he could figure out where to move and when, and avoid bumping into one of the dancers.

Though Harry hadn't thought this was in the choreography plans, Louis did, at one point, approach him, take his hand and spin him away from the group while lip-synching to the backtrack that was playing. Harry tilted his head to the side questioningly, but Louis just smiled and did his best to match Harry's rhythm. He didn't quite get it and Harry laughed softly, taking Louis's hand and spinning him around in a circle instead. Louis was positively beaming then and took his turn to spin Harry once again, sending him back to his group.

Harry bit the insides of his cheeks so he wouldn't smile too big, but there was nothing he could do about the burning of his cheeks. In fact, his entire body was nearly on fire and Harry concentrated on breathing steadily in and out while keeping up with the dance. He had a tendency to get a little worked up around Louis, because while they had interacted in real life a few times recently, he had still been Harry's celebrity crush for years, but Harry didn't cool down once Louis had gone, like usual. In fact, he grew hotter and weaker. Something wasn't right. He had been concentrating on breathing properly, but suddenly, it was impossible for him to do so; his breaths coming out shallow. Soon, the room started to grow fuzzy. He was still moving, but feared how long he would be able to stay on his feet once the room started to turn blue.

After what seemed like a really long time, but likely wasn't long at all, Harry heard someone-Louis, he thought, but his voice was muffled-yell to stop the music and as the sound cut, Harry stumbled forward. Though he was unable to move his legs and balance himself, he kept from hitting the ground and blinked a few times to see a very discolored Louis holding him around the waist.

“Harry?!” Louis asked as Harry tried to focus his eyes on him. The dancer tried to assure the singer that he was fine, but suddenly, he couldn't open his mouth or even utter a single noise. Louis picked him up like he had done in the woods and Harry was too weak to protest, though he managed to sigh in relief when Louis laid him down on the nearest couch.

“Someone get him water, please!” Louis was ordering and finally, Harry was stable enough to speak, even if his words were a bit slurred.

“I'm fine,” he said, trying to stand, but Louis pushed him gently against the back of the couch.

“Just relax,” the older guy said, fixing a stray curl on Harry's head, also much like when they went on their hike.

Liam approached quickly with a bottle of water and Harry could tell even with his slightly blurry face that he was worried.

“I'm fine,” he repeated as Louis opened up the water bottle and held it to Harry's lips.

“Drink,” the singer said, and tipped the bottle. Once Harry had ingested a good amount of water, Louis removed the bottle. He and Liam were still staring worriedly at Harry, as well as the rest of the damn class.

“What happened, Harry?” Louis asked.

“I'm not sure,” Harry said. It was a bit of a lie.

“When was the last time you ate?” Louis questioned next. Harry thought. His head pounded.

“Oh, I ate something last night,” he said, not mentioning the fact that it had been only half of an apple. Nobody needed to know that. He'd still eaten.

“That long ago?!” Louis asked. “Why haven't you eaten anything?”

Looking around, Harry moved clumsily forward so that only Louis and maybe Liam could hear.

“I'm getting in shape for tour,” he said, aggravated that it still sounded like he was drunk.

At the statement, Louis's face fell.

“Starving yourself isn't the answer,” he said. “You're fine how you are, Harry, and I'm really sorry if you thought I was insinuating something with any of the conversations we've had about the topic, but I wasn't insinuating anything. I don't want you skipping meals, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry answered, because that was what he was supposed to say.

Harry wasn't sure if the choreographer had heard their conversation or not, but she brought over a snack bar and handed it to Louis, who then attempted to hand it to Harry.

“No, thanks,” Harry said without even thinking.

“Harry...please eat it,” Louis begged, one of his thumbs stroking the back of Harry's hand. Harry didn't say anything, but Louis unwrapped the food and handed it to him, so he took a bite, his hands still shaking.

He choked as the food went down, but he managed to eat it.

“I'm sorry,” Harry apologized once the snack bar was gone and Zayn retrieved the wrapper to put in the trash can. Already, the room was back to almost a normal color and the noises surrounding Harry were no longer muffled.

“You don't need to apologize,” Louis said. “Just take care of yourself, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Sit out for the rest of rehearsal, alright?”

“No, I feel better!” Harry said, attempting to get to his feet, but Louis stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“Just sit there and finish your water. Please.”

Internally, Harry sighed.

“Okay.”

Practice continued and Harry wished he could disappear. He was embarrassed now because nobody was supposed to see him that weak. Plus, nobody probably believed it was the lack of eating that caused him to nearly faint. They had to just think he overworked himself, as he was clearly too out of shape for this much physical exercise.

Being the great guy that he was, Louis kept glancing over to the couch to check on Harry, smiling and winking when he saw that he hadn't lost consciousness. That did make Harry smile and mostly accept the fact that he wasn't going to disappear into thin air.

During break, Louis sat down next to Harry on the couch. Harry moved his body sideways to get a better view of the guy and Louis let out a sigh as he leaned forward to put his head against Harry's. That was almost like Zayn had done in the club the other night, but Louis was actually physically touching him.

“Are you okay?” Louis asked Harry yet again, their foreheads still pressed together. Harry nodded lightly.

“I'm sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. I just want you to be alright,” Louis said.

“Hey, now, what would Josiah think about how close you two are?” a voice asked from in front of the couch; Liam's. Harry and Louis broke apart.

“Maybe Josiah could say something if he was actually my boyfriend. Which he's not. Fortunately.”

Liam's eyes widened. He had clearly not been expecting that answer, and neither had Harry, so the two just stared as Louis got to his feet.

“Do you feel good, for real?” Louis asked, looking at Harry.

“Perfectly fine,” Harry said, smiling weakly.

“Good. I have to take a wee.”

With that, Louis left. Liam still appeared to be in shock because he just stood there for a moment, but then a wide grin spread across his face and he plopped himself down on the couch next to Harry, throwing another snack bar into his friend's lap.

“Eat up,” he said. “You will need your energy for when Louis fucks your brains out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lengthiness of this! I wanted to start the tour with the next chapter, so I kind of had to put two in one for this. I hope you enjoyed it!


	10. Chapter 10

***Liam***

Two days before Louis's tour was set to start, Liam woke to the distant vibrating of his phone. He did his best to ignore it and stay asleep. It couldn't be anyone important, unless it was Niall, in which case Liam knew he would forgive him for ignoring him briefly. The buzzing went on and on, though, and Liam was pretty sure it never rang for that long, but for some reason, it was that time, and his eyes slowly opened against his will. Of course, right at that moment, the buzzing stopped and Liam groaned loudly.

Since Harry wasn't next to him anymore, Liam flung his arm out and felt around blindly until he reached his cell phone on his friend's nightstand and rubbed his eyes before checking to see who had tried to get a hold of him. There was a _ding_ as the device alerted him that he had a voice mail and his stomach did flips as he saw that the call had been from Ruth. Or maybe that was the mild hangover making him feel strange, but he didn't think so.

Reluctantly, Liam opened the voice mail.

“Liam,” the woman started out sternly, only making Liam feel worse. “It's been months, cuz. Call me. If I don't hear from you by tonight, I'm filing a missing person's report. I love you.”

Though Liam doubted that Ruth would actually file a missing person report, he could see Nicola doing so if the idea was brought to her, so after taking a few deep breaths in and out, Liam called his cousin.

“Thank you!” the woman exclaimed as soon as she'd accepted his call. “How are you?”

“I'm good,” Liam replied, suddenly feeling guilty for reasons he wasn't sure of. It hadn't been the first time Ruth, Nicola or even Karen had tried to contact him, but the family was better off without him there, he knew. “How are you?”

“I'm fine. Miss you, though. You're leaving for tour soon, yeah?”

“Two days, yeah.”

“That's exciting.”

“It is.”

“I want to see you before you go, Li.”

“No, you don't,” Liam disagreed.

“Yeah, I do. We all do.”

“Your dad didn't seem to want to ever see me again when he told me to leave.”

“He was angry. His emotions were talking. You should know he didn't mean it. He didn't really want you to leave.”

“Either way, I'm sure he hasn't missed me.”

“He has.”

“Then why did you just now decide to file a missing person report? As you've said, it's been months. Almost two months, at least. I would be dead or at least damaged beyond repair by now if something had happened to me.”

“Gemma and I talk,” Ruth said. “I knew you've been safe with Harry. I just really wanted to talk to you.”

“I'm fine,” Liam said, and he wasn't sure if that even fit the conversation, but he didn't know what else to say.

“What have you been up to?” Ruth asked.

“Rehearsing, partying, fucking strangers. The usual. Anyway, I have to go. I'm meeting someone for lunch and it's already way later than I thought.”

“Ooh, like a date?” Ruth said excitedly.

“No,” Liam interrupted before the question had even been fully out of her mouth.

“Lunch with someone sounds like a date,” she said.

“If that's all a date is for you, then I feel sorry for your love life,” Liam told her.

“I do too,” she agreed, making Liam snort.

Luckily, Ruth let him go after that. Liam hadn't been lying; he did have to meet Niall for lunch in just over a half hour, so he jumped in the shower quickly and dressed, deciding he would just have to leave his hair wet for the day. When he was ready, he found Harry on his couch, texting someone. He wondered if it was Louis and the thought made him smile.

“Hey, are you ready to go to lunch?” Liam asked the other dancer. Harry glanced up, finished his message and then locked his phone before giving his friend his full attention.

“I really don't want to go and be a third wheel for your date with Niall, Li,” he said. Liam groaned.

“It's not a date!” he said exasperatedly. He wished people would stop insinuating that he and Niall were 'on a date' every time they hung out. Liam didn't date, and he was tired of feeling the irrational disappointment that came with denying that was what he and Niall were doing.

The corners of Harry's mouth twitched. Liam fought the urge to shake him, even if he would do so gently.

“I'm not hungry,” Harry said next. “I'll make something for myself here in a little bit, but have fun!”

Liam narrowed his eyes.

“Will you really?” he asked.

“Will I really what?” Harry replied, giving Liam a strange look.

“Make yourself something to eat.”

“Yeah…”

“Well, we don't need you fainting at our last rehearsal tomorrow.”

It was Harry's turn to groan.

“That was forever ago! It hasn't happened since then, so please quit treating me like I have an eating disorder.”

“I'm not…,” Liam said, the words shocking him. He tilted his head. “Do you have one?”

“Of course not!” Harry exclaimed, sounding offended at the question. “Have you not seen how much I've been eating?!”

“Not that much,” Liam said. He didn't think Harry had skipped any meals recently, but his portions weren't big anyway, and Liam couldn't be quite sure there was no meal skipping, as he was either gone working out or...well...'working out' quite often.

“Not everyone can eat as much as they weigh and still be fit,” Harry said, looking down the bridge of his nose at Liam. He smiled at him right after, though, and got off of the couch, patting Liam on the back as he went by him to get to his bedroom. Liam debated on literally forcing Harry out of the apartment, but he figured that would only make things worse, so he yelled his goodbye and received one in reply before leaving for the restaurant he was set to meet Niall at.

“Hey,” Niall greeted with a smile when he saw Liam approaching their table. Liam returned the smile slightly, but Niall seemed not to notice. “I thought Harry was coming?” he questioned.

“He said he wasn't hungry,” Liam said.

“Is he okay?” Niall asked.

“I don't know,” Liam answered honestly. “How common do you think eating disorders are amongst dancers?”

Niall's eyes widened, clearly shocked by the question, but he answered anyway.

“I met a couple of girls who were in recovery and one that had to quit dance school because she was still struggling...Sad...but I'm not sure with guys. Do you think Harry has one?”

“I don't know,” Liam said with a shrug, wondering if he was being ridiculous even theorizing it. “I've always known he has self-esteem issues, but I never really suspected something like that until he mentioned it today. He said I was treating him like he had one and, I don't know, I thought it was weird.”

“Huh,” Niall said with a frown. “I don't know. We'll keep an eye on him. I'm sure he's fine.”

Liam nodded, not completely convinced. Niall touched his hand, only briefly.

“Don't worry yet,” the blonde said. “Be excited! The tour is about to start!”

“I'm so excited,” Liam said with a smile, and he was, but the worry over Harry still nagged at the back of his mid. He thought that if something was wrong, he would have realized it much sooner, as he had been living with Harry for nearly two months. He knew he wasn't the most observant person, and he was kind of selfish; thinking of himself much more than he thought of others, but he decided then that that was going to stop, at least until he made sure Harry was really okay.

***Harry***

Harry felt bad for blowing Liam off for lunch, but skipping out meant that he could just not eat lunch instead of doing as he had been recently; pretending to eat or eating and then purging. He knew he shouldn't be doing either, but he couldn't help it. The tour was about to start and Harry was still seven pounds over his goal weight. He was only doing 'the bad things' until he lost all of the weight and then he would stop. He would focus on healthy eating after that point. Well, he might lose a few extra pounds past his goal weight just so he wouldn't gain it all back when he was eating regularly again, but still.

As guilty as Harry felt by sneaking around Liam to do this, it was worse around Louis.

The night after Harry had nearly fainted in rehearsal, Louis had texted him twice, asking him how he felt. Harry had assured him that he felt fine and that he had eaten a good dinner when Louis had asked. That hadn't been a lie because Liam had cooked a stir fry for them to eat that evening and Harry had eaten it, resisting purging afterward. Admittedly, nearly fainting had scared him a little bit. It had reminded him of when he was in the full threshold of his eating disorder. He hadn't meant to fall that far back. He just lost his appetite every time he saw or heard something about Louis and Josiah, or even whenever he thought of them. He wasn't actively concentrating on not eating. He just didn't feel like it most of the time and he wasn't going to force himself to.

The day after his embarrassing moment in practice, Louis invited Harry over to his place for breakfast. Harry had agreed right away, because why wouldn't he agree when his celebrity crush was inviting him over to his house?!

Harry wondered if Louis could even be considered a 'celebrity crush' now that he knew him fairly well and was working with him, or if now he was just a regular 'crush.' The thought of having a real crush scared him a little bit because that led to many possibilities, a couple of which ended well, but most of which ended with him being hurt. Still, he didn't think he'd fallen in too deep with Louis yet, so breakfast at his place was perfectly fine.

Before seeing Louis's place, Harry had imagined that he lived in a huge mansion with various servants around the place and many rooms that were either unnecessary or at least extravagant, but when he pulled up to the address that Louis had given him that morning, he saw that he had been wrong. The place was nice and fairly large, but it was nowhere near a mansion and, upon entering, it appeared that they were the only two there.

“Do you like French Toast?” Louis asked Harry as he led him into the kitchen. Ah, yes; that was what that delicious and simultaneously nauseating smell was. Harry should have recognized it.

“Yeah,” he said, and he guessed he did. He hadn't eaten it in a while, as there was more sugar in half of a piece than Harry usually consumed in a week, but he supposed it tasted alright when he had eaten it and not been freaking out about the fat content and whatnot.

The breakfast did taste good, but Harry had only been planning on eating one piece. However, when Harry announced that he was finished afterward, and Louis teased that he was a terrible cook, Harry feared that he had inadvertently hurt the singer's feelings and so he ate another piece. He felt really sick afterward, and everything in him wanted to go to the bathroom and throw up, but he didn't. He could probably hide what he was doing, but there was always the chance of getting caught and even if Louis didn't know that it was something that Harry sometimes did after eating too much, Harry really didn't want this gorgeous, stable man to find him throwing up in his expensive bathroom.

Instead of giving into his urges, Harry tried to use the distraction method on himself.

“If you don't mind telling me, what did you mean when you said that Josiah isn't your real boyfriend?” he asked, and Louis gave a small, quick smile.

“It's all a PR stunt,” Louis explained. “He needs media recognition, so I was put in place to kind of help with that.”

“Liam thought that might be what was going on, but I didn't think stunts like that actually existed,” Harry said.

“Unfortunately, they do,” Louis said. “It will end when my tour starts, though, and eventually Josiah is going to let everyone know how straight he is. Please don't tell anyone that I'm saying this, though.”

“I won't,” Harry assured him.

“Thank you.”

There was a brief silence and then Harry spoke.

“Again, you don't have to answer me and you can tell me if I'm asking too many questions or whatever, but how many of your relationships have been real, then? Any of them?”

“One of the three have,” Louis said. Harry nodded, willing to drop the subject at that, but Louis went on.

“It was a while ago and it's over now,” he said.

“I guess it would be hard to meet people when you're almost always on the move,” Harry allowed.

“Yeah,” Louis said, “but sometimes people come into your life at exactly the right time.”

Something about the way Louis completely stopped messing around with his food and drink to look directly at Harry as he said that made the dancer's heart flutter. Before he could really let all that in, Louis spoke again.

“Now, feel free to tell _me_ if I'm stepping out of line, but what about you?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, his hands fidgeting nervously on the napkin he had placed on his lap.

“Well, if Liam isn't the lucky guy who has your heart, is there one?”

“No,” Harry answered, rather quickly. He quietly cleared his throat. “I don't have anyone.”

“Hm,” Louis said, and then sipped his tea. Harry thought he was smiling around the mug and didn't know what to make of that.

 

Niall picked up Liam for rehearsal that morning so that Harry wouldn't have to rush back from Louis's to get him. Since the singer was attending again, Harry rode with him. Luckily, by the time they reached the studio, Harry wasn't too nauseous anymore and the rehearsal went well.

It was late in the afternoon by the time Harry and Louis arrived back to the singer's house and before Harry could say a goodbye, get in his car and leave, Louis had invited him to stay for dinner. Harry had to debate on it for a moment that time. He wanted to, but he had already eaten a much larger breakfast than usual as well as lunch, when Louis had gotten all of the dancers subs. He felt way too full, despite the fact that he knew he burned much of the calories dancing, but since he couldn't think of a good excuse to say no, and also because he did really enjoy being around Louis, he agreed.

While Louis began cooking, Harry got into his shower, very glad that he kept a spare change of clothes in his dance bag. He felt weird being naked at Louis's place and covered himself while showering even though the door was locked and he knew that Louis most likely didn't have hidden cameras in the bathroom. His anxiety was irrational, but it was there.

Once he was out of the shower and dressed, Harry threw his hair into a ponytail, as it was quicker than his typical bun, and quickly put on his make up before returning to the kitchen, where Louis was cutting up vegetables.

“Hi,” the singer said with a smile and a quick glance to the dancer.

“Hi,” Harry said, smiling as well. “Thank you for cooking for me again.”

“You're very welcome.”

“Do you like cooking?”

Louis opened his mouth, prepared to give Harry an answer, but before he had uttered a word, he chopped down with the knife, not on the vegetable, but on his finger instead. With a yelp, Louis screamed that no, he did not like cooking, as he rushed to put his finger under water. Harry hurried over to look, and the cut wasn't deep, but it was still bleeding a fair amount.

“Where are your bandages?” he asked, his adrenaline bursting.

“In the bathroom, but I can get them in a minute,” Louis said. Harry then remembered that he fortunately had one in his dance bag and ran to grab that instead. Louis smiled when he saw that Harry had returned with it and he shut off the water, putting pressure on his wound with a paper towel as Harry opened the band-aid. When Louis's finger was dried and the blood flow slowed a little, Harry wrapped the wound.

“Are you okay?” he asked once the bandage was secured in place.

“Yes,” Louis assured him. “You may have been a little bit right about me being a klutz, though.”

“I had a feeling I was,” Harry said with an endeared smile.“I guess I'll have to keep more bandages around,” he said, and then, without thinking, lifted Louis's hand up to his lips and gently kissed the wounded area. He froze afterward, with Louis's hand still up by his mouth as he looked into the other's eyes, reading his reaction even though he was afraid. He didn't know what had possessed him to do such a thing. Sure, he had done it every time his ex-boyfriend, who was also a little clumsy, hurt himself, but that was completely different. Louis wasn't his boyfriend. Louis was his employer.

“I'm sorry,” Harry apologized as he let go of Louis's hand, which the singer dropped back down to his side. Louis smiled.

“That is quite alright,” he assured Harry. “My finger feels much better now.”

As the older man went around Harry to get back to his task of cooking, Harry heard him mutter,

“I might have to make sure I bust my lip next time I fall.”

Harry was glad that Louis's back was to him because his mouth fell open rather unintelligibly.

Luckily, dinner was chicken, rice and vegetables, so Harry didn't feel too terribly guilty eating it. Besides, he only had a small helping and Louis made no jokes about being a bad chef, so Harry guessed he didn't mind.

After dinner, Harry expected Louis to say he was tired or make some other polite excuse as to get Harry out of his house, but he didn't. Instead, he invited Harry to stay and watch a movie with him, though by the end, Harry couldn't say much of what actually happened in the film, as the two had spent the entire time talking.

Once back at his apartment, Harry spent several minutes trying to convince Liam that he and Louis hadn't had sex.

“Yeah, right,” Liam had said. “No one spends that much alone time with someone in a day without having sex with them.”

“Actually, they do, and we didn't have sex,” Harry said.

“Come on, Harry. 'Watching a movie' is basically code for having sex.”

“Liam, your view on interpersonal relationships is literally fucked and I worry about you.”

“Did you at least kiss?”

“No.”

“Not even a little?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don't know, probably because he's not interested in me,” Harry said, fearing that this conversation was proving that to be correct. Wouldn't Louis have made a serious move by now if he were into him? Sure, he'd made that comment about busting his lip, perhaps so Harry would kiss it better, but that was just Louis's personality.

“Nah, that's not it,” Liam said off-handedly, as if it wasn't even a possibility. Harry wished he were right, but he suddenly felt that this crush was definitely going to end in pain, and he also knew he probably wasn't going to do anything to prevent it from happening.

 

That Friday, the dancers had to pick out and get fitted for their tour outfits and Louis went to that as well. Naturally, the dancers didn't have too much say in the matter as the tour stylist picked out the costumes, but she did allow votes on some of them. None to Harry's surprise, the winners were the ones that showed the most skin and he felt physically sick as he was being measured, which wasn't helped by the fact that Louis was sitting right there watching the whole thing. Did the stylist really have to read his measurements out loud? Louis could see how much bigger Harry was than the rest of the dancers; he didn't need a number to confirm it.

After the fitting, the dancers were free to go for the weekend and Louis took Harry to the mall to pick out more bun decorations, as promised. He was pretty good at not getting spotted often in such a public place, but he was still seen sometimes and Harry spent a lot of time turning away from sneakily pointed camera phones and taking pictures. He didn't mind the latter, but he was very unnerved to know that he was probably included in some of the sneaked shots and realized with dread that he would probably end up in some photos onstage too, in outfits much less flattering than the large t-shirt and unfitted jeans that he had on.

“I'm really sorry,” Louis apologized, looking like he meant it, after the second pair of fans that had approached had gone. “I know you didn't ask for this.”

“It's fine,” Harry assured Louis with a smile, not wanting him to worry. Louis smiled too, but looked uncertain.

“I love all these bun accessories,” Harry said, turning back to the selection in front of them, “but don't you think it will look odd if no one else has them?”

“No,” Louis answered right away, but then said, “You don't have to wear them if you don't want to, though, honestly. It was just an idea, but I don't want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“I want to wear them,” Harry said, “and I'm going to. Really, thank you.”

Louis smiled, a more genuine smile that time, and Harry returned it. He wasn't typically the type who liked to stick out, like he knew he might with the added decoration to his costume, but he did like to pretend that it meant that he stuck out to Louis too. For some reason, that idea was very appealing.

 

About twenty minutes after Liam left for lunch with Niall, Harry heated up a frozen dinner and then proceeded to throw the food into an empty trash bag, which he took out to the dumpster. He set the empty container in the kitchen trashcan in case Liam looked to make sure he had eaten, which Harry doubted he would, but he couldn't be too safe right now. He really couldn't mess this tour up now that there was more on the line than his dancing career.

***Louis***

The first show of his tour was in London, which meant that he didn't have far to travel. The other crew members were flying in early that day, but since Harry was in the area too, Louis had a driver pick up him and Liam. When they arrived, Louis was helping his VIP organizer, Alan, get things ready for the meet-and-greet, but they came through the back door and Louis couldn't help but to smile when he saw the sunlight pouring in behind Harry, who was smiling wide enough to show almost the full depth of his dimples. Liam was with him, and he said something to Harry before darting off, but Harry didn't seem bothered and he soon made eye contact with Louis, who had admittedly been staring. The dancer's smile grew and he approached, calling out a 'hello' when he was about a hundred feet from the singer.

“Hey!” Louis greeted. “Tiny dancer looks happy today.”

Harry tilted his head, though his smile didn't falter.

“Is that my official nickname now or something?” he asked.

“Yes, so I hope you like it,” Louis replied.

“I'm growing fond of it, even if it is inaccurate,” Harry stated.

“It is not inaccurate. Look at your pretty little waist!”

Harry gasped as Louis put down what he had been holding to place his hands on Harry's hips, but after a quick jolt, he smiled and put his hands on Louis's, letting them linger in their place before gently removing them from his waist. Even still, he kept their hands locked.

“You should take up acting if you get bored of the singing gig,” Harry said, and Louis was confused as to what that meant, but he didn't get a chance to ask before Harry changed the subject.

“I'm sorry about your break-up, by the way,” the dancer said, and Louis laughed. Only a couple of days ago, the stories had started to speculate that all was not well between Louis and Josiah when the new singer was spotted with a 'mysterious blonde female.' Later, a source 'close to the stars' confirmed that they had decided to not see each other anymore.

“Yeah, it's been a rough few days, but I think I can pull through. I might need some cuddles from a certain tiny dancer though,” Louis said.

“Zayn?” Harry asked with an eyebrow raise.

“Um, yeah, sure, we can pretend I was talking about Zayn if it will keep things from getting awkward,” Louis said, and Harry laughed but was then whisked away by the choreographer. Louis went back to helping Alan, his nerves growing when he realized just how close to the first show they actually were.

Louis's touring chef made everyone dinner that evening, but not many people ate all that much. The anxiety was extremely prevalent in the room, and not only from Louis, though he was probably doing the worst job at hiding it. He knew it was likely actually worse for the others, especially the new backing musicians and the dancers, because unlike Louis, this was new to them. Louis had done the whole concert thing many times before, but it never really got any easier. He enjoyed it and it was all worth it in the end, but the hours beforehand were a struggle.

“Hey,” Harry said, sneaking up behind Louis to sit next to him during dinner time. “Don't worry, you're going to do great.”

“What if I forget the lyrics?” Louis asked.

“Then you'll recover,” Harry said.

“What if my voice cracks?”

“People will just think you're getting emotional. Go with it.”

“What if I trip and fall off the stage?”

That question made Harry pause, his reassuring smile faltering a little.

“Please be careful, Louis, because I can actually see that happening.”

Whether it was his intention or not, Harry made Louis laugh with that.

“Did you eat?” Louis asked, still not fully recovered from seeing the other nearly lose consciousness that one time.

“I did, though I can't say the same for you,” Harry said, nodding to the singer's barely touched plate.

“Yeah, I'm choosing starvation over throwing up today,” Louis explained. Any trace of a smile was instantly wiped from Harry's face and his eyes widened as he stared at Louis, speechless.

“Because of the nerves…,” Louis quickly explained. He thought it would have been obvious what he meant, but he didn't know why, if so, Harry would have reacted like that, though he also didn't know what else would have been on Harry's mind.

“Oh!” Harry said, and gave a nervous laugh as he rubbed his forehead. “Yeah, sorry, I thought...Never mind. Try to eat some, okay? I heard you can faint if you skip a meal; not that I would know from experience or anything.”

Louis smiled, able to take a couple bites of his food then.

“Are you nervous?” he asked Harry.

“So nervous.”

“You'll do amazing,” Louis assured him. Harry gave a small smile.

“I have to go get changed. Please try to eat,” he said, and then stood and walked away. Louis managed a couple more bites.

 

Despite how nervous everyone clearly was, the show went smoothly that night. Louis supposed he sounded alright, and he didn't forget lyrics or fall off stage, so that was all he could really have asked for. The dancers, from what he saw, did an amazingly spectacular job, and Louis looked at Harry what was probably too much, smiling each time. He looked so concentrated, but graceful and beautiful, as he always did.

Louis had almost missed an intro for one of his songs due to staring at the dancer, but luckily, he pulled himself together at the very last second.

Once the show, plus Louis's encore, had finished and everyone was backstage, cheers filled the place; all of the anxiety from earlier being released in slight mania. Louis joined in, jumping from person to person to thank them and tell them they did amazing, as well as give them a hug. When he came across Harry, Louis screamed and threw himself at the man unthinkingly. Harry caught him though and spun him around a couple times before setting him on his feet and smiling. Louis smiled too, his breathing heavy. He meant to thank the dancer and tell him that he did a wonderful job as he had the others, but suddenly, the words failed him. His brain seemed to check out and he found his body gravitating towards the other again. Instead of jolting back like last time, he stood up on his tiptoes and kissed Harry's forehead, somewhat coming back to himself afterward. Harry was blushing.

“How did my sweat taste?” he still managed to tease, and Louis licked his lips.

“Salty,” he said. They both laughed, but then were interrupted; Harry by Liam and Louis by Beatrice. The pair's hands brushed together as their friend and manager pulled them apart to wrap them in their own elated hugs and, normally, Louis would pop the champagne bottle that Beatrice had in her hands and declare a celebration party, but he really just wanted to take the bottle and have a celebration for two with his precious tiny dancer.


	11. Chapter 11

***Harry***

The first show went pretty well, in Harry's opinion. He felt pretty good about it. Sure, he knew that he messed up a couple of times, but he tried to take comfort in the fact that the audience probably wasn't looking at him very much. They were looking at Louis a majority of the time, naturally, and the other times Harry assumed they were probably looking at the other, prettier dancers. He knew they had to have noticed him at first since his different physique stuck out, but they had likely looked away quickly. Though Harry had been insecure up there on the stage, he'd still had fun and even occasionally forgotten about his insecurities.

Louis's second show of the tour was only a few hours away from where the first one had been held. The group didn't need to travel until the following morning and so were being placed in a hotel for the night. That meant no rush to get out of the stadium where the concert had taken place, and the celebration went on for a good while. Once everyone had calmed down from the post-performance high, Louis popped a champagne bottle, and Harry pretended that he wasn't at all turned on when the singer licked the bit of alcohol that had escaped off of his arm before pouring everyone a glass and passing them around. Harry accepted his glass with a smile, which Louis returned, but as soon as the man had gone on to the next person, Harry sneaked away to discard the drink. There was to be no alcohol for him; not until he was under his goal weight.

Harry didn't know where they were coming from, but more and more champagne bottles kept appearing in Louis's hand and before long, it was pretty obvious that he was tipsy. His eyes were bright and glossy, his cheeks pink and his loud, boisterous laugh was even louder than usual. Harry smiled watching him for a bit and then looked around, trying to find Liam. He looked away quickly once he found his friend, having his face sucked off by Jakob in a corner, a half full champagne glass in his hands. Sighing, Harry bounced awkwardly on the balls of his feet, suddenly just wanting to be in the hotel away from all of the noise and the drinks, but the party didn't seem like it was going to be dying down anytime soon.

Once a few more minutes had passed and Harry felt as if his head might explode-it didn't hurt, but the chaos seemed to be seeping into his brain-he decided to wait out in the hall for something to happen.

As luck would have it, Louis exited the room right as Harry started heading towards the door and so he went after him. The singer was stumbling a bit, and he giggled as he accidentally spilled a little champagne down his front, and Harry had just opened his mouth to ask Louis if he needed assistance when the older man turned around and smiled at him.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” Harry replied, returning his smile.

“I'm just going to the loo,” Louis explained.

“Okay,” Harry said. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“I'm brilliant!” the singer exclaimed. Harry smiled again.

“Good,” he said.

“Can you hold my drink, please?” Louis asked.

“Sure.”

Louis handed his glass over to Harry and then went into the bathroom. Harry heard him singing to himself as he took care of business and tried not to giggle too loudly. How could someone possibly be so cute?

“Thank you!” Louis said happily once he had come back and taken his glass from Harry.

“You're welcome.”

“Hey, Harry?” Louis asked as the two started to walk again. With dread, Harry realized they were probably headed back to the party.

“Yes, Louis?”

“We should have a sleep over in my hotel room! Do you want to spend the night?”

Harry's heart skipped a beat or two as he briefly fish-mouthed, shock amongst other things filling his body and mind.

“Okay,” he finally said, his breath still coming out unevenly. Harry still had doubts that Louis was at all attracted to him, but he knew what being asked to spend the night usually meant and when it came to quick flings, some guys weren't picky, especially when drunk.

Of course, Harry wouldn't mind if spending the night with Louis led to more than just sleeping if it weren't for the fact that such things would lead to Louis seeing him naked. Dean could tell Louis that he was out of shape all he wanted, though it made Harry mad because he knew better. Louis was perfectly toned, unlike Harry, who had no tone or muscle whatsoever, and if Louis was told that his body wasn't even good enough, he couldn't imagine what he was going to think if Harry were displayed before him.

But he'd already said okay now and that was that.

“Okay,” Louis said as well, still smiling. Of course, Louis was usually always smiling.

Luckily, as soon as they arrived back to the mini party, Beatrice approached to ask Louis if he was ready to go to the hotel and Louis agreed that it sounded like a fabulous idea.

They all got carpooled there on the buses. Harry, Zayn, Niall and Liam were bus mates, and Louis rode over with them. Harry had assumed Liam had been heavily intoxicated, but he seemed pretty sober, leaving Louis the only one even slightly drunk, but it was clear that the rest agreed with Harry; he was adorable, looking in the bus's refrigerator and cabinets to make sure they were 'properly stocked for you lads' and laying in all of the bunks to make sure they were comfortable enough.

Zayn and Harry were supposed to be room mates at the hotel, but upon their arrival, Harry told the other dancer that he was going to make sure Louis got to his room okay, not wanting to actually say out loud that he was planning on spending the night with the singer. It was a bad excuse anyway, as Louis had specialized security with him to make sure he made it to his room alright, but Zayn simply smirked and told Harry not to hurry back and to stay until he was positive Louis was thriving.

Since it was late and the tour crew had come in through the back entryway, they missed any potential fans that could be around and made it to Louis's room in record time. Security waited for him to check the room and assure them that everything was okay before leaving, and then it was just Louis and Harry.

“I don't know why Beatrice thinks I need a whole suite to myself,” Louis said, almost as if he was embarrassed over the fact.

“It's a nice room,” Harry commented, not knowing what else to say.

“Yeah, it's nice, but we'll only be here one night...”

Louis trailed off and then shrugged.

“I'm going to get a shower,” the singer said next. His voice was much less slurred now. He wasn't exactly 'sober' yet, but he wasn't drunk either. “I don't want you to have to smell my post-concert odor any longer than necessary.”

“Okay,” Harry said, and then added, “but I don't think you smell.”

Louis smiled.

“Thank you. I'll be out soon.”

Harry made a mental note to get in the shower as soon as Louis was finished, as his post-concert odor had to be worse, probably, but in the mean time, he took a seat on the suite's couch and checked his phone; something he had yet to do since coming offstage. Unsurprisingly, he had one missed call from his mom, along with a text saying to call her whenever he got the chance and that she didn't care what time it was. Harry found her contact information and pressed the call button.

“Hi, baby!” the woman greeted cheerily after only the first ring. “How did the show go?”

“It went really good,” Harry answered, smiling as he remembered the performance high he had felt on the stage. “Louis sounded great,” he said too, because he had. Harry knew he was far from flawless, but he still thought he could have avoided messing up those couple of times if he hadn't been concentrating so hard on the pitch and the beautiful tone of Louis's voice as he sang his favorite songs.

“I'm sure he did,” Anne said. “Did you have fun though?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“So you think you will be okay doing this for the next several months?”

“Yeah. I don't really have a choice.”

“There's always a way out if you don't think you're going to be happy,” Anne said quickly, sounding worried. Harry should have just answered her question with a 'yes' and left it at that.

“I am happy,” he tried to assure the woman. “Don't worry, mum, please.”

“You're my baby; of course I'm going to worry.”

“I'm okay.”

“And you have a plan in place to be able to get all of your medication refills while on tour, yes?”

“Yes, mum,” Harry said, even though he'd answered the exact same question as she had helped him move his excess belongings back to her place the previous day. What she didn't know was that it was a lie. Harry didn't have any plan to get his medicine because he hadn't taken the anti-depressants in at least three months. They had worked. Harry never even really considered himself 'depressed,' but he couldn't deny that he felt better and had a lot more energy while on the pills, but they hadn't come without any negative side effects, the worst of which being weight gain. Harry cared less about the weight gain while taking the medicine than he did while off it, but he still knew how bad he looked, even if he wasn't willing to starve himself in an attempt to fix it, so he went off them by himself.

“You can call me any time, Harry,” Anne reminded her son.

“I know,” the dancer said. “I love you and I'll see you soon. Just let me know when you want to come to a show. Louis already said a while ago that all family and close friends are welcome backstage.”

“We will take that offer up very soon. Be safe. I love you.”

“Love you too, mum.”

The two hung up just as Harry heard the shower water turn off from the bathroom. About a minute later, Louis was walking towards his luggage, placed conveniently by the couch, in nothing but a towel, and Harry couldn't help but to stare at the shirtless man.

“Sorry,” Louis said with a small, embarrassed smile. “I forgot to grab a change of clothes.”

“It's okay,” Harry assured him, his eyes traveling quickly up and down the other man's torso. He couldn't help it, but he finally regained some self control and forced himself to look into Louis's eyes.

“I forgot my spare clothes in my room, actually,” the dancer said. “I'm just going to run down and shower real quick, but then I'll be back.”

“Okay,” Louis said, straightening up as soon as he found an outfit that he deemed suitable. “Hurry back.”

Harry smiled to return the one Louis was giving him.

“I will.”

“Oh, I think I'm going to order a pizza while you're gone. What toppings do you like?”

“I'm not very hungry,” Harry said, and it was the truth. He should have been hungry, he realized, or he should have at least been able to feel his blood sugar dropping, but for the time being, he felt fine. It must have been adrenaline or something. “Get whatever you want on it.”

“How aren't you hungry?” Louis asked, looking dumbfounded. “Shows always leave me starving.”

“I ate a lot more dinner than you did,” Harry pointed out, which was actually a lie, as he'd only had a handful of nuts, but that wasn't the point. Louis still hadn't eaten much and, for someone who wasn't used to that, it was a big deal.

“Maybe,” Louis said and then paused a moment before smiling again and saying, “Hey, if you want, you can invite Zayn, Niall and Liam to join us for a little bit. I can't eat a whole pizza by myself, and I'm also not having someone deliver for just me.”

“Okay,” Harry said with a small laugh. Louis was so cute. “I'll ask them.”

After inviting Zayn, the other dancer said he would join so long as Harry promised that he wouldn't be interrupting anything. Harry assured him that he wouldn't and then asked him to invite Niall and Liam as well. Zayn promised that he would.

Harry showered and fixed himself up quickly and then hurried back to Louis's room. After he knocked, the singer answered the door.

“Finally!” he sighed dramatically. “I didn't think you were ever coming back!”

Louis took Harry's hand and pulled him gently into the room, closing and locking the door behind him.

“You smell good,” he complimented.

“Thank you,” Harry said.

“I just ordered a veggie pizza,” Louis said. “I hope that's okay.”

“That's fine,” Harry replied, hoping that Louis knew he had been serious about not wanting any. “Zayn is going to get Niall and Liam and then he'll be up.”

“Okay, great.”

The two sat on the couch and turned on some television while waiting for the others, but it didn't take long before there was a knock on the door. Louis looked very interested in whatever late night show was on, so Harry offered to get the door and stood.

“Hello!” Zayn said, letting himself into the room as, from behind him, Niall gave the tiniest of smiles and waited for Harry to move back before entering.

“Where's Liam?” Harry asked, and then regretted it because every hint of a grin that had been on Niall's face fell away. _You should have known where Liam was, Harry_ , the man chastised himself.

“He's with Jakob,” Niall replied simply, trying and failing to keep his voice chipper.

“Oh,” Harry said. There was an awkward pause, but they were saved by another knock on the door.

“Pizza!” Louis cheered from the den area. Smiling to himself, Harry opened the door as Louis came forward to sign for the food.  As he reached Harry's side, he rest ed one of his hands, in a fist, on the small of the dancer's back and massaged the area gently before reaching out for the receipt. Niall, in the mean time, took the pizza, which distracted from the fact that Harry's face was probably at least a slight shade of pink.

Louis, Zayn and Niall helped themselves to pizza and drinks while Harry grabbed a simple bottle of water and joined them by the breakfast bar in the suite's kitchen. 

“You're really not hungry at all?” Louis asked, his eyebrows pulled together in concern. Harry made sure to offer one of his best smiles.

“No, not right now.”

No one else returned his smile and, feeling eyes on him that weren't Louis's, Harry turned to see Niall staring. The blonde looked away quickly when he realized he'd been caught, but that didn't stop a bad feeling from growing inside of Harry. For a moment, he thought that Niall must have known, but then he realized that that was ridiculous. There was no way he could. Harry had been extremely careful and covering himself well, he thought. He'd even fake eaten for him and Liam earlier, but they'd seemed none the wiser to the fact that he was actually holding the fork until they looked away and then placing its contents onto the napkin in his lap. Or, if he was forced to take a bite, that he was nodding along to whatever they were saying and then spitting it into the napkin when they looked away.

Luckily, Zayn chose that moment to mention the show and how 'sick' it had been, and the group got distracted from Harry's lack of eating to talk about that. Harry nodded along and piped in every now and then, but, suddenly, the exhaustion was starting to hit him. He leaned against the counter.

“You can pull up a chair,” Louis offered when he noticed, nodding to one of the chairs by the small dining table. Harry assured him that he was alright, and their conversation continued.

It wasn't too long until there was another knock on Louis's door. Harry offered to get it again and when no one protested, he rushed to the door, just a bit dizzy.

“Oh,” Harry said in surprise when he saw who was on the other side. “Liam, hey.”

“Hey,” Liam said with a small smile. His eyes were bloodshot and a bruise marked him high up on the neck, but Harry chose not to say anything.

“They're all in the kitchen,” Harry said, stepping back to allow Liam to enter and then leading the way. Zayn and Louis said their hellos immediately while Niall simply looked to the side, seeming to pretend that Liam hadn't entered.

“How was Jakob?” Louis asked with a smirk once Liam had given his greetings as well.

“He was okay,” Liam said, inviting himself to open the refrigerator. “Ooh, can I have this?” he asked as he pulled out yet another bottle of champagne.

“Sure,” Louis said. “Have some pizza as well, and bring it to the living area.”

Liam accepted that offer and then followed the others back to the room they had been in before. Louis, Zayn and Niall took the couch while Harry took the chair and Liam sat on the floor by Niall's feet.

“You know, Liam, from my experience, sex is better if the person you're having it with actually means something to you,” Louis continued their conversation.

“Just because they mean something to you doesn't mean you mean something to them,” Liam pointed out, taking another drink straight from the champagne bottle.

“Well, that's why you wait a bit and find out how you both feel.”

“Life is too short,” Liam said and then added, “and I'm much too slutty.”

Though Liam was giving an ornery smile, Harry didn't miss the way Niall shook his head before taking the bottle straight from Liam's hands and taking a swig himself. The rest watched as he drank and drank until the bottle, which had been just slightly down past the neck, was nearly to the middle and then, finally, Niall pulled it away from his mouth.

“Damn!” Liam said, his eyes wide. “Impressive!”

Niall gave no response but a loud belch.

“I think you both need more pizza now,” Louis said, taking in his guests' red, unfocused eyes.

“I'm fine,” Niall said, but added, “Go for it, Liam. There's plenty since Harry didn't eat any.”

Harry's face burned as Liam turned to look at him, his eyes spinning just a bit, but his face completely sobered and serious.

“Why didn't you eat?” he asked.

“I'm not hungry,” Harry said.

“You need to eat at least a little bit,” Liam continued. “We burn a lot of calories on stage and so you need to replenish so you don't lose weight.”

“Yeah, because I can't afford to lose a few pounds,” Harry said, the sarcasm laced heavily in his voice. He expected a few agreed chuckles, even if they were awkward ones, but was met with complete silence as his friends all gaped at him.

“Just kidding,” Harry added weakly, hoping they would all look away.

“I sure hope you were because there's nothing to you,” Zayn said. Harry snorted, though thought that was a bit hypocritical when Zayn was much thinner than him; they all were.

“Eat a piece of pizza,” Liam tried again.

“I'm not hungry,” Harry repeated for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

“Eat a piece of pizza before I shove it down your throat,” Liam said. Harry's eyes widened. A big part of him told him that Liam wasn't being at all serious, but suddenly he was reminded strongly of feeding tubes being forced down his throat and, worse, his dad holding him down while hysterically trying to shove food into his mouth.

“Fine, just one,” he said quickly, feeling guilty, but heading to the kitchen to grab the smallest slice of pizza he could find anyway. Liam smiled once Harry came back to the entryway with a plate, and the rest watched Harry as he took his first bite. He squirmed as he chewed, uncomfortable and unsure as to why people found it so amusing to watch fat people eat.

Though his tongue was working to push the food out of his mouth, Harry forced himself to swallow it and then coughed. His stomach constricted and for a moment, he thought he was going to throw up right there on the spot, but he didn't, and everyone was still watching, so he took another bite, his eyes wanting to water. He hoped it wasn't obvious.

Finally, after that second bite, the attention was taken away from him as Louis flipped on the television and started taking requests for what they should watch, and Harry took that as an opportunity to grab a napkin. Still, even with spitting half of it out, Harry had still eaten half of the pizza and his stomach was killing him. Some of it was psychological, he knew, but his body hadn't had to digest that much fat in a long, long time, so he knew that there was a chance that he might actually throw up.

Quickly taking Liam's plate from its spot on the floor next to him, Harry went to throw away their garbage and then went to the bathroom.

He knew he could probably get himself to throw up pretty easily without shoving his fingers down his throat since he was already extremely nauseous, but he also knew that he didn't have much time, so he leaned over the toilet and shoved his two handy fingers down until he coughed, gagged and then, finally, expelled what he had just eaten.

After he had finished, he rinsed his mouth, washed his hands, dabbed his moist eyes and exited the bathroom. The whole ordeal had taken less than five minutes, he assumed, but still, he found Louis waiting just down the hall from the bathroom, and he jumped, then focused on trying not to look guilty.

“Hey,” Louis said with the tiniest of smiles. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, and then, “Why?”

He prayed Louis hadn't heard him. He'd been quiet, but still, noise echoed, and there wasn't a lot of sound on this side of the suite.

“You just looked like you felt a bit iffy.”

“Yeah, no, I mean, I really wasn't hungry so it was kind of hard to eat, but I'm fine...Yeah. I was just peeing.”

Louis nodded, his expression unreadable.

“I'm sorry that Liam practically made you eat that,” he said.

“It's okay,” Harry said, not mentioning that it was something he had grown quite used to.

“Are you still staying the night here?” Louis asked.

“Do you want me to?”

Louis nodded. “Yeah, if you feel okay.”

“I'm fine, honestly.”

While Harry brushed his teeth, Louis kindly got everyone else to leave by exclaiming how exhausted he was and how he hated getting up as early as they had to wake tomorrow.

As Harry had done since Liam had started staying with him, he forwent washing his face so that he wouldn't have to be seen without his makeup on.

When he had finished getting ready for bed and exited the bathroom again, he found Louis  without a shirt and in his pajama pants, sitting by the breakfast bar  and eating a cookie.

“Don't tell on me,” he begged.

“I won't,” Harry said, feeling a pang of anger that anyone had made Louis feel like he had to hide eating something that he enjoyed. Louis didn't seem bothered and offered a smile, because of course he did.

“ There's only one bed in this suite, so I can sleep on the couch. It was actually pretty comfortable.”

“Oh, um, you don't have to,” Harry said, shuffling one foot and hoping that Louis didn't think he was just trying to sleep with him. “Unless you want to, but, um, I can sleep on the couch or, you know, both of us in the bed...It doesn't matter.”

“Are you sure?” Louis asked, and though Harry's heart was racing, he assured Louis that he was.

Harry needn't have worried, though. Louis kept a respectful distance when they laid down in the bed next to each other.

“ Thank you again for doing this tour with me,” the singer said, his voice already growing hoarse as soon as his head had hit the pillow. Harry hoped it was just because he was tired and not  that he was actually losing it. “You did an amazing job tonight, Harry.”

“Thank you,” Harry said. “I still can't believe you sound the same live as you do on your album.”

“You're too kind,” Louis said, and Harry had been serious, but he didn't say so.

Louis yawned and then got closer for just a moment to place a gentle kiss on Harry's forehead.

“Goodnight, tiny dancer.”

“Good night.”

None to Harry's surprise, Louis fell asleep quickly, and Harry hoped that he wasn't being creepy, but he couldn't take his eyes off of the other man. He was so unbelievably pretty and-Harry had been right-such a genuinely good person. Obviously, Harry was nothing special in any way, but Louis made him feel like he was, even if only for fleeting instances, and Harry thought that he probably did so on purpose so that Harry wouldn't feel bad about himself.

He couldn't believe that he was actually laying next to this man, and Harry thought that Louis might even be a good enough person to be able to fall for someone based on their personality and leave their physical appearance out of it.  Still, Harry knew that if Louis did, by some miracle, fall for him even a little bit, it wouldn't last because not only was his outside ugly, but his insides were messed up as well.

***Liam***

Liam was so nervous for the first show that even Niall couldn't make him feel better; probably because Niall was just as nervous as he was, but in this case, misery did not love company. Liam needed a drink desperately, but he knew better. He'd mastered the skill of dancing through a hangover and he was even pretty graceful while he was drunk, usually, but alcohol mixed with hot stage lights and chaos would be a recipe for disaster involving everything Liam had eaten that day and possibly the day before too.

So, since alcohol was out of the cards for the time being, Liam decided to get relief from another source.

Though he didn't know if he was particularly allowed to, nobody had told him otherwise, so Liam hung around close to where Louis was holding his meet-and-greet session a few hours before the show. It was easy to spot the men who were after more than just a 'hello' and a photo, and Liam stayed back out of the way until he saw one that he thought he could get off easily with.

“Don't take it personally,” Liam called out as the man began to walk (sulk, more like) straight by him towards the exit after Louis had stepped out of the grasp he'd had on the singer's hips. “He just went through a break-up, so I'm sure he's just not in the mood, no matter how sexy the boy is.”

Liam knew that Louis hadn't really just broken up with anyone, but most people didn't, and he thought it was a rather good conversation starter, so he was pretty pleased with himself.

The stranger looked Liam up and down, frowning questioningly, but his eyes didn't look all disapproving.

“Who are you?” he finally asked after a moment.

“I'm one of Louis's back-up dancers.”

“Really?” the guy asked, one eyebrow raised and looking far more intrigued than he had just moments ago.

“Really.”

“Well,” the man stated, stepping closer to Liam, and Liam gave himself a pat on the back, already considering this a success. “Can I have a name?”

Less than ten minutes later, Liam had the guy in the bathroom.

When the dancer exited again, Jakob was standing outside the bathroom door. Liam gave him a smirk and then continued walking, but halted at his co-worker's voice calling out to him.

“Oh, come on, now! Really?!”

“What?” Liam asked turning around slowly. Jakob took a couple steps towards him.

“I've been trying to get you alone with me since the kick-off party and that bloke got you in less than thirty minutes?”

Liam raised an eyebrow, quite aware that this was true, but deciding to play dumb.

“Oh, so you want a go?” he asked, jutting his hip out just so. In reply, Jakob only smirked.

“You should have said something,” Liam continued, blinking slowly so as to draw the other man in further.

“ You're so damn sexy,” Jakob breathed, closing in nearly the whole gap between the pair's bodies.

“Will you be able to get rid of your room mate tonight?” Liam asked in nearly a whisper.

“Oh, yeah, for sure. Don't you worry about that, babe.”

“ Good. I'll see you tonight then.”

Liam turned and began to walk away, putting just the right amount of sway into his hips, but, once again, Jakob stopped him.

“Hey!”

“Yes?” Liam asked, not turning around that time.

“Makeup is looking for you.”

“Oops,” Liam said, turning around and smiling innocently. Though he tried to act like he wasn't phased, he was panicking on the inside and subtly hurried away, hoping he wasn't going to be fired.

  


Despite everyone's nerves, the show ended up being amazing. Liam always performed his best under pressure.

During costume changes, Liam made sure to ask Harry how he was holding up, as he had been the one who was unsure about the whole thing in the first place, but Harry always assured him that he was fine. Liam hoped that was the truth, but Harry kept his expression unreadable.

Once the show was over and everyone was backstage getting rid of the last bit of their anxiety by drinking too much and laughing and talking too loudly, Liam found Niall again.

“First show down! How many more to go?” Liam asked.

“You know, I've counted the number of shows we have a million times but I can't remember all of the sudden.”

Liam smiled, raising his alcohol glass.

“Well then, here's to fighting off our nerves almost every day for the next seven months!”

Smiling, Niall tapped his cup to Liam's and both men took a drink. Liam had barely swallowed the fizzy goodness when a hand on his shoulder turned him around and he came face-to-face with Jakob.

“Hey, Li, you did great,” he said, looking the dancer up and down and noticeably licking his lips.

“Oh, don't pretend you even looked at me once on that stage!” Liam said, shoving Jakob's shoulder lightly.

“I couldn't take my eyes off you,” Jakob said, his face completely serious, and then he pulled Liam closer by the waist. “Can we go talk?”

Liam thought it should be enough for Jakob to have him in his hotel room later that night, but he supposed he still did need a few details such as the guy's room number and what turned him on the most, so he looked to Niall.

“I'll be back in a second,” he said.

“Ooookay,” Niall said disbelievingly, and without sparing him another glance, turned and walked away. Liam felt bad, but he didn't know why and he didn't have time to even consider doing anything about it because Jakob dragged him to a nearby corner and immediately locked their lips. Instinctively, Liam almost pushed the slightly larger man away, but pulled himself together at the last second. He wasn't sure why he thought that 'talking' had actually meant talking anyway.

When they  finally left the stadium, Jakob asked Liam to ride to the hotel with him on his bus, but Liam wasn't quite ready for tour bus sex yet, so he refused. 

As soon as he had reached his own room at the hotel, he jumped in the shower without a word to Niall, who was his room mate, put on a tight outfit and did his hair before exiting and grabbing his hotel room key from the nightstand he'd set it on.

“Are you going out with Jakob?” Niall asked from his place on the bed he'd apparently claimed.

“No,” Liam said. “Just to his room.”

Niall half rolled his eyes, but seemed to stop himself and force a small smile.

“Have fun,” he said. Still, Liam thought there was something off about his voice, but rationalized that he was probably just tired or it was all in Liam's head, so he thanked the man and went to the hotel room that Jakob had written on his wrist in sharpie.

Unfortunately, Jakob's spectacular looks had given rise to Liam's expectations which the guy just couldn't live up to, so after all was said and done, Liam was left feeling a bit disappointed, even after a couple of drinks from the bar a few floors up. In fact, he didn't even wait for his momentary lover to pass out afterward before giving him a quick kiss on the lips and pulling himself from the bed to get dressed.

“Is that it?” Jakob called from the bed as Liam picked up his phone and made his way to the door.

“I have other plans,” Liam explained without a backwards glance. Truthfully, he hadn't had any other plans at all, but when he checked his phone on his way to the elevator, he saw that he had a text from Niall telling him that 'they' were in Louis's room if he wanted to join once he was through. The room number was included in the text, so Liam pressed the correct button inside the elevator to take him to Louis's floor.

Harry answered the door for him once he knocked.

“Oh, Liam, hey,” his friend greeted, seeming surprised to see him on the other side of the door.

“Hey,” Liam said, giving the best smile he could muster.

“They're all in the kitchen,” Harry told him, stepping back so that Liam could enter, which he did.

“Hi!” Louis and Zayn greeted him unanimously as the two walked into the kitchen of the gigantic suite room that Louis was staying in. _Rich people_ , Liam thought, though knew he would probably splurge on the room too if he'd been a 'rich person.'

“Hi,” Liam said, his eyes focused on Niall, who was turned away. He was acting so strange. Liam really didn't understand.

“How was Jakob?” Louis asked, and when Liam turned to him, he saw that he had an actual smirk on his face. Sadly, if he was looking for a dirty, juicy story, he was going to be thoroughly disappointed, like Liam had been.

“He was okay,” Liam answered, and suddenly realized that he could feel himself actively sobering up, so he invited himself to open the refrigerator, hoping that this nice suite had been adequately supplied. A surge of pure joy coursed through him when he saw another bottle of champagne waiting for him.

“Ooh, can I have this?” he asked.

“Sure,” Louis answered. Liam loved him. Well, not actually loved him because Liam did not love people, except Harry in the most friendly of ways, but he admired the singer greatly.

“Have some pizza as well, and bring it to the living area,” Louis added.

Liam was almost as likely to never pass up free food as he was to pass up free alcohol and so he accepted that offer, taking his food out into the living room like he was instructed.

“You know, Liam,” Louis spoke again, “from my experience, sex is better if the person you're having it with actually means something to you.”

“Just because they mean something to you doesn't mean you mean something to them,” Liam pointed out, not mentioning that he would never disrespect someone that he cared for by having sex with them, knowing he would just have to run afterward.

“Well, that's why you wait a bit and see how you both feel,” Louis said.

“Life is too short,” Liam said simply, not wanting to go into details of why that was not a possibility for him. To ensure the conversation became too awkward to continue, he added, “and I'm much too slutty.”

As he hoped, no one replied to that comment. Niall took the champagne bottle from Liam's hands and took a swig long enough to impress even him, and Liam told him as much, to which he got a simple belch in return. Yeah, something was definitely off with him, Liam thought.

“I think you both need more pizza now,” Louis said.

“I'm fine,” Niall assured the singer, but turning to his fellow dancer, said, “Go for it, Liam. There's plenty since Harry didn't eat any.”

A strange, bad feeling suddenly overcame Liam.

“Why didn't you eat?” he asked his friend.

“I'm not hungry,” Harry said, and that should have been a reasonable excuse, but Liam wasn't comforted by it.

“You need to eat at least a little bit. We burn a lot of calories on stage and so you need to replenish so you don't lose weight.”

Already, at the very first show, Liam thought Harry's outfit should have fit his body at least a little tighter.

“Yeah, because I can't afford to lose a few pounds,” Harry said, the sarcasm heavy in his voice. The room fell silent as the three others stared at him disbelievingly.

“Just kidding,” Harry added, softer; in a way that Liam didn't think he had been joking at all.

“I sure hope you were because there's nothing to you,” Zayn spoke.

“Eat a piece of pizza,” Liam demanded lightly.

“I'm not hungry,” Harry reminded him, but Liam wasn't having it.

“Eat a piece of pizza before I shove it down your throat.”

Maybe he shouldn't have threatened that to someone who may have an eating disorder, but Liam was so scared and he didn't know what else to do. Plus, he really would do that, if he had to.

Somehow, the threat worked, and Harry went to the kitchen to get some pizza. Everyone watched as he took his first couple of bites, and Liam wondered if Zayn and Louis had the same worries as he and Niall. Liam didn't know why he still had this fear, because he'd been watching Harry more intently recently, and he'd eaten pretty normally at home, but something still felt off.

Once he finished his slice of pizza, Harry threw away his and Liam's plates and then went to what Liam assumed was the bathroom. He and Niall glanced at each other, but they knew it would be weird to follow him, so they didn't.

Besides, Louis took care of that.

Zayn seemed oblivious to everything, whether he actually was or not, and there was no way Niall and Liam could hear what the two others were talking about when Harry exited the room, but Louis politely kicked the three out when he returned. That was okay, though, because suddenly Liam just needed to talk.

“Do you think he went to the bathroom to throw up?” he asked his room mate once they were in their room, sitting on their respective beds.

“I don't know,” Niall said, chewing his lip and looking deep in thought.

“He wasn't in there long,” Liam attempted to rationalize the situation for the better. “I've only made myself throw up a couple times when I was sick and knew it was going to happen anyway, but it took me a while and it hurt. Harry looked pretty normal; not like he'd been sick or in pain or anything.”

“I don't know,” Niall said again, finally looking to Liam. “His eyes were a little bit red.”

“Were they?”

Liam silently cursed himself for not noticing. He'd been trying to be a less selfish person, honestly, but he didn't appear to be doing a good job of not being naive.

“Yeah. And if he's had practice, it probably wouldn't take long. The girl I told you about that had to drop out of the dance academy; she'd always be having a feast before class and then sneak off a few minutes later, but she would always be back in, like, no time at all. It wasn't until she left that people put the pieces together.”

“Should I just ask him?” Liam said to Niall, who, for the third time, said,

“I don't know. He probably won't tell the truth if something is going on, but on the other hand, maybe he's just waiting for someone to notice. Maybe he wants help but doesn't know how to ask for it.”

“If something _is_ actually wrong.”

The possibility chilled him.

“Yeah,” Niall agreed. They were both quiet for a solid couple of minutes before Liam asked another question.

“Do you think love can save a person?”

“You might be asking the wrong person because I'm an optimist on top of a hopeless romantic, but...I think a lot of problems that people have are because they don't feel loved enough, so, yeah, if it's the right kind of love I think it can save a person, or at least give them what they need to save themselves.”

“I hope he and Louis fall in love then,” Liam said, feeling a little lighter at the prospect because he may not be a romantic person in the slightest, but he could see potential for them.

Niall took a moment to reply, and when he did, it wasn't about Louis or Harry anymore.

“Do you think you’re going to fall in love with Jakob even though his bedroom skills aren't fantastic?”

“Definitely not,” Liam said with a laugh. “I'm not falling in love with Jakob. I can't fall in love with anyone.”

“You can't or you won't let yourself?”

Liam wondered how this conversation got flipped on him, but was convinced that Niall just had to be joking around with him, trying to lighten the mood, so he went along with it.

“You can't stop yourself from falling in love. It's just something that happens,” Liam pointed out.

“True, but you can pretend you're not in love, and the mind is a powerful thing, so with the right amount of skill, you could even convince yourself you don't feel a thing.”

This suddenly didn't feel like joking anymore, and Liam grew quiet for a while. Niall waited.

“The room is starting to spin,” Liam said, and it wasn't a lie. He suddenly felt very dizzy, very weak and even a little sick. “I need to sleep off the alcohol.”

Moving the bed sheets down, Liam crawled under, pulled them up to his chin and rolled over so that he was facing the wall.

“Good night.”

“'Night.”

Niall got up to turn off the floor light and turned off the bedside lamp as he crawled under his own covers. Liam heard him toss and turn for only a couple of minutes before he stilled and his breathing evened out.

Personally, Liam slept fitfully. He was worried about Harry, and the more he thought about him, the sicker he felt. Part of it was the alcohol, he knew, but he thought most of his problem was sheer fear for his friend. Liam didn't let himself get attached to many people, but it had been different with Harry from the very first moment. Well, from the first moment after Liam realized he wasn't getting in his pants. Harry was his best friend, and if something was truly wrong with him, he had to find out and do anything he could to help. He could hope for the future of Harry and Louis; that they would fall in love and Louis would erase all self-doubts from Harry's mind and make him happy, but, though he liked the thought, he knew better than to put his faith and trust in what was even supposed to be the most unconditional of loves.


	12. Chapter 12

***Louis***

All that Louis knew about Harry was that he was a great dancer, loved romantic comedies, he had a sister and that he cared more about others than he did himself. He had dimples as deep as an ocean if you were one of the lucky ones who got to see his real smile, and he was beautiful, inside and out.

Louis also knew that Harry wasn't aware of most of those things.

Though that wasn't a lot to know about a person at all, it was enough for Louis to know that he really, genuinely liked the guy. It went beyond that, actually. He had only felt this way about one other person, and even then, it hadn't been as intense as his feelings for Harry were. Given a little time, Louis knew he could-and would-fall in love with the dancer.

  


When Louis's alarm went off the morning after that first show of the tour, both Louis and Harry groaned at the same time. Louis rubbed his eyes and then looked over and laughed, as Harry was doing the same thing, with the same displeased facial expression that Louis had had. The older man gave a small laugh.

“Good morning,” he greeted.

“'Morning,” Harry replied, attempting a smile but not getting very far with it.

“Did you sleep well?” Louis asked.

“I did.”

“I'm glad.”

Checking the time on his phone, Louis sighed.

“We have to hit the road in a little over an hour.”

“I guess we should get a move on then. I can go get you-us-some breakfast from downstairs if you want to get in the shower. I know you showered last night, but I have to shower in the morning, no matter what, so...”

“I'm the same way, and that would be great,” Louis said, noting for the first time that morning, but definitely not the first time over all, how wonderful Harry was. “Thanks.”

“You're welcome. What do you like?”

“Surprise me. I'm not picky.”

Harry nodded and sat up, hesitating only a moment before getting to his feet, but as soon as he was off the bed, he gasped and fell back onto it, his fists balling the sheets up so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. Louis, who had yet to move from his position himself, bolted up quickly.

“Harry?!”

“Hm?”

Okay, so he had responded, and that was good, but he had yet to turn around and still had a death grip on the bed sheets. Louis feared that he would lose consciousness at any moment.

“Are you okay?” Louis asked stupidly, because it was pretty clear that he wasn't.

“Uh-huh,” Harry said anyway. Louis crawled across the bed to sit by the man's side, and his worry only grew more when he saw that his pale face had grown even paler and his pretty green eyes were glazed over, all light in them gone. Without another word, Louis stood and laid Harry back down before standing on the bed and lifting Harry's legs so that his feet were above his head.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, his voice not quite normal.

“I'm trying to keep you from fainting!” Louis exclaimed, and he didn't mean to sound so harsh about it, but he was panicking and trying to decide if an ambulance was needed or not.

“I'm fine,” Harry said.

“Really? Because I moved you like a rag doll. When was the last time you ate?”

“Last night; here. Remember?”

Louis did remember, but he also remembered that Harry had only eaten one piece of pizza, which wasn't a lot, especially considering how hard he had worked up onstage. But, then again, Harry had looked pretty miserable for a bit afterward, so maybe he was getting sick.

“Keep laying there,” Louis instructed. “I'm going to get a thermometer.”

“No,” Harry said, grabbing Louis's hand before he could turn and go. “I'm okay, honest.”

He did look a little bit better now that he was laying down, but Louis was still worried, obviously, because someone who was 'okay' didn't just faint out of nowhere.

Pursing his lips, Louis rested the back of his hand on Harry's forehead, expecting him to feel at least slightly warm, but his skin was cool, especially considering that it was summer and he'd just nearly passed out.

Letting out an audible 'hmm,' Louis brushed some hair off of the dancer's forehead and studied him. Harry looked right back, some light coming back to his eyes, even if he was still abnormally pale.

“I'm getting you water, at least,” Louis said. “Just lay here, please.”

“No, we need to hurry. We have to leave soon.”

“You're the most important thing right now.”

Harry didn't say anything back to that, and Louis turned on his heel, hurrying to the bathroom to pour some water into one of the complimentary Styrofoam cups. When he got back to Harry's side, he helped him sit up and then kept a supportive hand on the other guy's back while he took a few sips of water. Once he was finished, Louis took the cup and placed it on the nightstand, and then rubbed Harry's back in what he hoped to be a soothing manner.

“What's going on, love?”

Louis hadn't meant to use the pet name, and hoped that Harry didn't find it weird because he used it on most people. Though it meant a little more to him when he was using it on Harry, he didn't need to know that at this moment.

If Harry thought the term was strange, he didn't say so.

“I think I'm just dehydrated,” he said.

“Here, drink more then,” Louis said, retrieving the cup he'd just placed down and handing it right back to Harry before he got out his phone to call Beatrice.

“Yes, Lou?” she asked, sounding like she already knew he was going to tell her that he was running late or something. Louis wanted to tease about being offended, because it wasn't like he was late _that_ often, but now was not the time for joking.

“Hey, Bumble Bee. I have a favor to ask.”

“Stop calling me Bumble Bee. And what is it, diva?”

“Can you please bring some food up for Harry and me? Something with a lot of protein.”

Harry was staring at the sheets, biting his lip as he twisted the cloth around his finger and released.

“I guess I can do that,” Beatrice sighed from the other end of the line. “Please tell me you're going to be ready to leave soon.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.”

“What am I going to do with you?”

“Love me.”

“Like I have a choice. So Harry is there? Are you both appropriate?”

“Yes, Beatrice. It's not like that.”

“I'm not judging, just trying to save us all from a very uncomfortable situation. I'll be up in a few minutes.”

“Thanks, Bumble Bee.”

“Louis, will you seriously-”

Louis hung up on the woman before she could finish her rant.

“Do you think you might be getting sick?” he asked Harry. The dancer shook his head, but Louis was still unsure, so he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He still felt cool, but, somehow, that didn't comfort Louis any.

Beatrice arrived only about ten minutes later with waffles, scrambled eggs and oranges. Though Harry claimed only one orange as his, Louis kindly insisted that he eat the eggs as well for the protein. Harry didn't say whether he  would eat any or not, but Louis put some on his plate and, after poking them with his fork for a couple of moments, the dancer took a small bite.

“I can still dance tonight, right?” he asked after he'd swallowed that first bit.

“As long as you feel okay,” Louis told him.

“I'm fine,” Harry said again.

“I should have made you drink more  water last night. I'm sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Harry asked, frowning.

“I have experience with being onstage and have been dehydrated from it on more than one occasion, so I should have warned you.”

“I've been dancing for years,” the other replied. “I should have known better.”

Looking back to his plate, he shoved the eggs around a little more before saying again, softer,

“I should have known better.”

Louis finished his waffle and then leaned over to give Harry a kiss on the cheek.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“I should get my shower.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go on, I'm okay, I swear.”

“Okay, but scream if you need me, alright?”

“I'm fine, but I will.”

Even though Harry had assured him multiple times, Louis still wasn't convinced and took the quickest shower he'd ever taken in his life. He left the door cracked so that he could better hear if the man called for him, and he didn't think he had, but when Louis exited the bathroom, Harry was standing outside the door, a pair of clothes in his hand.

“Are you done?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

Without so much as a nod, Harry rushed into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. Louis felt his eyebrows pull together, and he stood there, unsure of what to do. Harry was acting strange, even for Harry, and Louis wanted to help, but he had no idea where to even begin.

The shower water turned on, and Louis still thought he heard Harry cough a couple of times, so maybe he had just caught a cold or something.  Hurrying over to the bed, where he'd left his phone lying, Louis this time sent Beatrice a text, asking if there was anyway she or someone else could pick up some chicken noodle soup and cold medicine before they left. That resulted in his tour manager calling him, panicked that he was the sick one, though honestly, Louis would rather it have been him than Harry. 

Luckily, Louis had kept a few of his favorite movies with him and not in the luggage that was lost somewhere in one of the several buses on the road with him. He smiled, thinking of potential movie marathons while traveling that day. He wasn't happy that Harry was sick, of course, but he could hope that, while under the weather,  Harry  loved cuddling in front of the television as much as Louis did.

***Harry***

_You know better, you know better, you know better_ .

The words repeated over and over in Harry's head, first as he ate his breakfast and then again as he threw it up. He didn't even know if the words were there because he knew better than to fall back into his disorder, or simply because he had eaten.

Harry didn't know why he felt as if he had to get rid of the eggs. Scrambled  eggs  were on his 'safe' list. He didn't typically have his eggs that salty, though, and salt made  one retain water, which he had drunk lots of after telling Louis that he was dehydrated. That might not have been a lie either, because he was sure he was dehydrated, but he doubted that was the main reason he nearly almost fainted again. 

When Harry threw up, it had been mostly water coming up, and it hurt. Purging never felt good, at least physically, but sometimes  it hurt worse than others, and that time, it felt like Harry's stomach lining was ripping. His breaths came out in gasps,  and he had to hold his breath  in as he moved from the toilet to the shower. He turned the water on hot and stood there, letting it pour down on him and turn his skin red, and then, when he finally breathed again, it came out a choked sob and by the burn of his eyes, he knew that he was crying. That was ridiculous and pathetic, and Harry did his best to stop, but he hurt and he was embarrassed, ashamed and afraid, so it took a good few minutes before he was able to fully quit.

When Harry dried off, he saw that his eyes had already turned red, either from the crying or purging he wasn't sure; maybe both, but he splashed cold water on his face and then, once dressed, hurried to his bag to use his eye drops. Luckily, Louis hadn't been in the room, and he entered just as Harry tossed the drops back in with the rest of his luggage.

“Everything good?”  the singer asked when Harry turned around and offered a smile.

“Yeah, everything is good,” Harry assured him. He realized then, with panic, that his face was still bare; no hint of makeup covering his flaws. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now, and he guessed it was best for Louis to see his true self now, when he could still run without it hurting Harry _too_ bad.

“Okay. Are you about ready to go down to the buses then?”

“I'm ready.”

Louis double checked the room as Harry waited by the door with his one bag and then, after assuring both men had all of their belongings, they went on their way. Before they reached the elevator, Louis slyly slipped his free hand into Harry's, and Harry looked down, hoping Louis couldn't tell how that had made him smile. He was probably holding his hand in case he fell over, and Harry knew that, but he still liked the way Louis's small, warm hand fit into his larger, cold one.

“Is this okay?” Louis asked after a couple of moments, and Harry looked up, his smile under control.

“Yeah,” he said, grinning just a bit. Louis smiled as well and swung their hands inside the elevator as they waited to reach the bottom floor of the hotel.

Louis once again joined Harry, Niall, Liam and Zayn on their bus as they made their way to their next destination. Harry  sat next to Louis, applying his make-up with his small pocket mirror, and he  didn't miss the way that Liam was staring the  two men  down, but  he  was pointedly ignoring him. When his phone buzzed, he quickly took it from his pocket, and then nearly rolled his eyes when he saw that the text was from Liam.

_Did you use protection?_ The message read. That time, Harry couldn't resist from rolling his eyes.

_We didn't have sex._

Looking up, Harry saw that Liam frowned reading the text message and then put his phone away.

  


Much to Harry's gratitude, Louis never again mentioned what had happened earlier, with him almost fainting and all, but Harry knew that, when he wasn't looking at the singer, he was studying him to try to read if he was truly alright. When Harry went to the bathroom to give himself a quick check in the mirror, he saw that his eyes looked normal and his face wasn't quite so pale anymore, so he hoped Louis couldn't tell that he wasn't okay at all.

For lunch, Louis heated up some chicken noodle soup, and Harry almost cried again, for some stupid reason. It was sweet  t hat Louis was doing everything he knew how to try to make Harry feel better when he thought he was sick with something as easily cured as a cold or the flu.

  


“You're sure you're alright?” Louis asked once the two had a moment alone backstage at the venue, just a few minutes before Louis had to go to his meet-and-greet.

“Yes,” Harry said, smiling, and it was mostly genuine. He didn't like when people worried about him, but Louis's concern was still appreciated. “I feel much better now. Thank you.”

Louis didn't need to know the way that Harry was clasping his hands tightly behind his back so that he wouldn't see that they were shaking.

  


Even though he felt like literal hell, Harry made himself eat a little bit of dinner. The chef was serving angel hair pasta with vegetable and marinara sauce, and Harry wished he could eat the vegetables and have that be it, but he knew he wouldn't survive the night if so, so he got a couple tong-fuls of food and sat by Louis, who appeared at least a little more relaxed than he had been the previous night.

“You're less nervous then?” Harry asked when Louis gave him a smile without looking like he was holding back vomit.

“Nah,” Louis said. “I'm just handling it better.”

“You always do great,” Harry said. “I don't know why you're so nervous. You wouldn't have made it this far if you weren't amazing, which you are.”

Harry swore that he saw Louis blush, which was nice, considering that it was usually Louis causing Harry's cheeks to burn.

“You're sweet,” Louis said. “I'll be okay. So, one more time, are you sure-”

“That I am fine? Yes.”

Louis smiled and Harry returned it.

“Just know that if you need to leave the stage at any time, please do. No one is going to be upset or anything. The other dancers can hold it together, I guess.”

Louis winked and Harry gave him another smile, and he even laughed a little bit, ignoring the way it made his heart flutter.

“I'll remember that. Thank you.”

  


Though Harry was a little bit tired throughout the night, he made it to the end and he didn't even mess up. That was probably because he hadn't been able to concentrate on Louis's voice, fearing that if he lost focus on what he was doing, he would lose consciousness.

Like he had the previous night, Liam kept asking Harry if he was alright between wardrobe changes, and Harry was really getting sick of that question, and of lying about the answer. He told the lie so much that he would probably have convinced himself that it was true except for the fact that he wanted to cry every time he was asked the question. Harry was a mess, and he thought again of how he shouldn't have done the tour. He didn't deserve any of this. He didn't deserve these friends.

Harry didn't join the celebration at the end of the show. Instead, he sneaked out to the tour bus, collapsing on the floor by the sofa and covering his face, trying to focus on breathing and not crying or throwing up or passing out, but his tears came anyway. Harry gave up on stopping them for the time being. He knew he couldn't cry for long, but for the next few moments, he was going to let himself break a little before having to pretend to put the pieces back together.

***Liam***

Liam was sitting away from the others, not drinking and not trying to sex himself up for anyone that night, when he was approached by Dylan; the blonde, curly-haired dancer that should have been attractive, but had too much creep factor going on to really pull it off.

“Hey,” Dylan said, sitting by Liam and handing him a drink. Liam studied the contents inside, and it smelled good, but he really wasn't in the mood for any of this because Harry had disappeared. “You left too soon last night,” the guy next to him continued. “You, Jakob and I were going to have a threesome.”

Liam outwardly sighed a bit, though Dylan gave no indication that he noticed.

“You know, mate, that would be an honor, but my throat hurts,” Liam said, both of those things being lies. “I think I'm getting sick, so we best not do anything of that nature tonight. Rain check?”

Without waiting for a response, Liam stood, set his drink on the floor next to Dylan's feet and then hurried off to find Niall.

“Have you seen Harry?” he asked when he approached the more attractive blonde dancer.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Niall said. “I haven't seen him since we left the stage.”

“If you're looking for Harry, I saw him going outside,” Zayn piped up from behind Liam. Liam didn't know how long the other guy h ad  been near him, but he thanked him and headed outside. He didn't see  Harry anywhere around and prayed that no one had taken him as he ran onto their tour bus. A moment of relief passed over Liam when he found his friend sitting on the bus's floor, but it lasted only briefly before Liam realized that he was crying. Harry didn't even look up as Liam took the few steps towards him and then sunk to his knees beside him.

“Hey, what's wrong?” he asked softly, but he still made Harry jump. The curly haired dancer looked up and then wiped his eyes quickly. They were so red and puffy that they looked painful, and Liam's chest hurt.

“Shit,” Harry breathed.

“What happened?” Liam asked.

“Nothing.”

“Do you often cry for no reason then?”

“Maybe. Don't judge me,” Harry said, and he tried to smile, but his bottom lip quivered and a sob escaped his throat as a tear rolled down his cheek. He smacked it away.

“Please tell me what's wrong,” Liam tried again. Harry sobbed again.

“I don't deserve this,” he said.

“You don't deserve what?”

“To be on this tour.”

“Yes you do! Why would you think that, Harry?”

“Because I don't! I'm a mess!”

“You're a mess because you have feelings? No. You're doing great, Harry. I know it's all stressful right now. Our bodies are being so worked and getting used to the tour schedule and performing, but we'll be fine.”

Harry didn't say anything, but he seemed to be contemplating what Liam was  telling him.  However, when he spoke, it wasn't about anything Liam had said.

“I'm so hungry,” the other dancer whispered. Goosebumps suddenly covered Liam's arms, despite it being fairly warm on the bus.

“You're hungry?”

Harry nodded.

“I have a question, and please don't get mad,” Liam said, deciding that now was a better time than any to bring up the topic that had been on his mind. Harry sniffled a bit and blinked, waiting for his friend to continue, which he did.

“Um...have you been, like, throwing up your food?”

Harry's entire body jolted, his eyes growing wide, and that gave Liam all the answer he needed.

“No,” Harry said, but his voice was quiet and it broke. Liam was pretty sure his heart did too as he pulled the man into a tight side hug.

“It's okay,” he said. “I want to help.”

“I don't need help,” Harry said, and his voice had grown thick by then.

“It's okay,” Liam repeated. “You don't have to hide it anymore.”

“I'm not doing anything!” Harry insisted, but his body shook and Liam could feel tears soaking through his shirt.

“Do you want the rest of that soup?”

Harry hesitated for only a moment before nodding, his head still on Liam's chest. Liam moved him gently so that he could get up and heat the food. Harry moved to the sofa as he did so, and once the soup was ready, Liam joined him.

“Please stop looking at me,” Harry asked after Liam had handed him the bowl and he had blown absently on  its contents for a few seconds. Liam hadn't even realized that he had been looking at Harry, but he turned his body. He heard Harry take a few sips of food and then he said, his voice a bit cheerier,

“Okay, my turn.”

“What?” Liam asked, almost turning around but stopping himself.

“I have a question that you might get mad about.”

“Hit me.”

“Do you drink and sleep around because it's fun or because you're hiding from yourself?”

“That's an awfully deep question,” Liam said, not even knowing where to begin searching inside himself for an answer.

“I told you that you might get mad,” Harry said.

“I'm not mad,” Liam assured him. “I'll answer on one condition.”

“What is it?”

“Answer me honestly; have you been throwing up your food?”

The only thing Liam heard for at least a solid minute was Harry's sp oo n stirring around the soup he still had in his bowl but, finally, the dancer replied,

“Sometimes.”

“Please stop, Harry.”

“Okay. I will. Now answer my question.”

Liam's heart was palpitating as he went to answer, and he nearly felt sick preparing to say these things out loud, but Harry had been open with him, so he was right; it was Liam's turn.

“I have sex so that I can feel wanted in some way, and I drink the rest of the time so that I don't have to feel anything else at all.”

Liam's reply was met with silence, and then a sigh. A moment later, he felt Harry rest his head against  his  back and he turned around  again  to pull Harry into a cuddle. 

“We can help each other,” Harry said.

“Okay,” Liam said, knowing that he would do anything he could to help Harry, but he didn't know if there was any help for himself when he didn't want to be any other way than the disaster he was.


	13. Chapter 13

***Liam***

After a few minutes of sniffling and holding back harder cries, Harry ended up falling asleep, still huddled up next to Liam. Liam stayed like that with him for a few minutes, but he was afraid that his friend was going to end up with a crook in his neck when he woke if they stayed like that too long, so then, moving carefully, he situated the man into his arms-he was so, so light-and put him in one of the bottom bunks. Harry barely even stirred, and, knowing that he was usually a light sleeper, Liam thought sadly that he must be exhausted. How had he even survived the night? How was he surviving at all?

Liam wondered how often 'sometimes' was in regards to Harry throwing up his food, and also how he hid it. Niall's words about it not taking long to purge if he had practice played over in Liam's mind, and his fear grew. Not only would practice make it easier to do, but if he did it often enough, he also probably learned more and better ways to hide it. Liam knew he was oblivious to some things, but if his friend was getting sick in the bathroom of the small apartment they'd stayed in together for over a month, he thought he would know. Well, he would just have to keep an even closer watch on his friend now, was all. Harry seemed to be accepting Liam's help, so that was a good sign. Still, Liam couldn't help but wonder just how long Harry had been doing all of this.

As Liam was pacing in front of the bus's television, Niall and Louis hopped on the bus, worry on both of their faces.

“Did you find Harry?” Niall asked.

“Yeah,” Liam said, his voice off pitch.

“He's sick, isn't he?” Louis asked, like he already knew the answer.

“Yeah…,” Liam said, guessing that he wasn't really lying. What was wrong with Harry could definitely be considered an illness, he thought. He wasn't going to tell Louis the full truth yet, though, as he was hoping that he could help Harry and that Louis would never have to know at all. Harry would prefer it to be that way, Liam thought.

Liam wasn't sure how long the silence between the three stretched on with him being lost in his thoughts, but when he felt eyes boring into him, he blinked his own into focus and saw Niall staring at him questioningly. Liam gave a slight nod, his frown growing. He wasn't sure if Niall was trying to quietly ask what Liam thought he was; if they were right about Harry, but Niall frowned at Liam's gesture, and so he thought that he had been.

“Here are these,” Louis, oblivious to the exchange between the two, spoke as he rustled through a grocery bag sitting on the table and pulled out cold medicine. “He can take this when he wakes up.”

“I'll make sure he does,” Liam assured the singer. Louis's eyes flickered towards the bunks, a concerned look on his face, but he looked back to the other two dancers quickly.

“Let me know if any of you need anything,” he said.

“We will,” Liam said. Louis nodded.

“Thank you for another great performance tonight.”

“Yeah, I mean, you did amazing too. Thanks again for giving us this opportunity.”

After exchanging good nights, Louis got off of their bus, calling out a good night to someone off in the distance as he walked to his own bus. After listening to make sure it was nobody coming to join them, Niall asked,

“Is he okay?”

Even though it was quiet, Liam still peeked around the corner to make sure that he and Niall were alone before answering.

“No,” he said quietly.

“Is he...”

Liam was ninety nine percent sure he knew Niall's question that time, and he nodded.

“Shit,” Niall breathed, running a hand through his hair, though it barely moved from all the product the stylist had put into it pre-show.

“But he told me about it, so he wants help, which is the first step to recovery, right?” Liam asked hopefully.

“I guess,” Niall said, but he sounded unsure.

“He's going to be okay,” Liam stated. He knew that he was just trying to convince himself of it at that point, but it wasn't really working.

“We'll keep an eye on him,” Niall said.

“We're keeping this between us for now,” Liam told him. “Don't tell Harry I told you.”

“Okay,” Niall said, nodding once.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Promises were just words that could be broken very easily, but Liam trusted Niall, and right now, he selfishly needed him, so, grabbing the man's hand, he pulled him closer until he could wrap him into a tight hug. Niall hugged right back, and Liam almost let himself melt into the touch because it felt so good. Niall was quite a bit smaller than Liam, but Liam still felt like he was safer with him, in his touch, but that was stupid, and, with heat rising to his face, he pulled away pretty quickly.

“Top or bottom?” he asked, causing Niall's eyebrows to shoot up towards his hairline.

“What?”

Liam laughed.

“I meant do you want the top or bottom bunk.”

“Oh,” Niall said, and at least Liam wasn't the only one blushing now. “It doesn't matter.”

“Ooh, I like versatile men,” Liam said, winking over his shoulder as he turned and went back to the bunk area. He may not have lost his flirtatiousness yet, but he was suddenly dizzy with exhaustion and needed to lay down as soon as possible.

Liam was typically a bottom himself, but the only reason he took the bottom bunk that night was so that he could easily keep an eye on Harry, laying in the bunk directly across from him.

In his sleep, Harry looked so peaceful. It was strange because Liam doubted he ever got much peace while he was awake.

Though he fell asleep quickly, Liam doubted that he would get much peace himself that night.

***Harry***

Harry could feel himself tossing and turning, but he couldn't pull himself from his restless slumber. He was sweating too, he knew.

 _You stupid, stupid idiot,_ his half unconscious mind screamed at him. _Why did you tell Liam?! You are fine! You shouldn't be so weak about this. It's not like you have an actual disorder again. It was a temporary thing until you met your goal, that was it! But now you have to be even more careful because any little abnormality will send off alarms in Liam's head, because you told him you throw up your food, you stupid, whiny, weak, oaf._

Harry groaned out loud, conscious enough now to feel sick but not yet able to do anything about it.

If Liam told Louis what Harry had told him, then Harry could be kicked off the tour. He was a liability. Even if Harry wasn't kicked off the tour, he knew that Louis definitely wouldn't be inviting him to spend the night in his room or holding his hand anymore, and Harry couldn't blame him. He could barely stand himself during his diets, and he knew for a fact that no one else wanted to deal with him either.

“Harry?”

His name was said softly, but the contrast between the real voice speaking to him against the voice in his head screaming at him made Harry gasp and bolt upright. Someone else-Louis, he saw once his eyes focused-gasped too, from his spot on the edge of Harry's bunk, and he quickly put his hand up against the top board of the beds so that Harry's head would hit his hand instead of the wood.

“Sorry to wake you,” Louis continued when he saw that Harry was awake enough to know what was going on but had yet to speak. “The bus is stopped for gas and probably won't stop again, so do you need anything?”

“Oh,” Harry said, rubbing his face to try to wake up the rest of the way. “No, I'm okay, thanks.”

“Okay. Sorry again for waking you.”

Louis started to stand, but Harry reached out, touching his hand briefly.

“It's fine,” he said. “I was trying to wake up anyway.”

Louis smiled a little bit, but it wasn't a real one.

“How do you feel?” he asked, and the panic hit Harry immediately. Had Liam already told him?

“I'm fine,” Harry said, and he could hear the questioning tone to his own voice.

“Liam said you weren't feeling well,” Louis explained, and Harry relaxed a bit, letting out a small, unnoticeable breath.

“Yeah, I wasn't. I don't know what was wrong with me last night, but I'm feeling better now.”

“There's non-drowsy cold medicine out there if you need it.”

“I might. Thank you.”

“I'll let you go back to bed.”

Louis hesitated, so Harry gave a small smile, laying back down but scooting his body closer to the singer.

“I'm going to stay awake,” he said. “Where are we anyway?”

“Just about an hour from the stadium,” Louis answered. Harry nodded, sitting up again and stretching his arms out in front of him before placing his pillow against the headboard and leaning against it.

“I have a question,” Louis said, causing Harry to panic again.

“What is it?” he asked anyway, his hands still locked together as he stared at Louis, hoping the fear wasn't showing in his eyes.

“Well, I don't know if you like either of these songs, but if you had to pick to listen to one of them, would it be 'Summer Song' or 'In the Dark?'”

Relief coursed through Harry yet again. He was getting dizzy from these emotional up and downs. Or maybe he was dizzy because his blood sugar was dropping, but it was probably from the internal roller coaster he was on.

Both of those songs were by Louis, and truthfully, Harry liked them both. He told Louis so, which earned him a real smile from the singer.

“Okay, but if you had to pick one, which would you choose?” Louis asked.

“'In the Dark,'” Harry answered, and even though he did also like 'Summer Song,' it wasn't really a competition to him. 'Summer Song' was a fun song about getting tipsy, skinny dipping with friends and kissing a cute guy under the midnight moonlight, but 'In the Dark,' while still with a pop beat, also had slower back music and deeper lyrics; its meaning finding hope in the darkest corners of your own mind.

“Okay,” Louis said. “I'm releasing a new single soon and my management is letting me pick between those two. I know they actually want 'Summer Song' since you know, it's summer, but I think 'In the Dark' would reach a wider, newer audience.”

Harry smiled, silently agreeing. Maybe Harry only preferred 'In the Dark' because he could relate to it more, but he thought others would be able to relate to it too and, yes, it was summer, but the back beat of the song would keep it from being too dark for the season, Harry thought.

“That's only my opinion though,” Harry pointed out, because, even if he thought it would be a good choice, he didn't want to be the reason Louis's next single flopped. Not that Louis had ever had a single that flopped, but Harry didn't want to be the cause of his first.“When do you have to decide?”

“They want my decision tomorrow.”

“Why don't you make a poll and ask your other fans?”

“How would I do that?” Louis asked, frowning in confusion.

“You can make a poll on Twitter,” Harry reminded him, but Louis's confusion only seemed to grow.

“You can?!”

“Yeah,” Harry said, a smile splitting across his face. “You didn't know that?”

“No, I did not.”

“Are you really the one controlling your account?” Harry asked, and he was teasing, but he narrowed his eyes.

“I am,” Louis said with a small laugh. “I'm just unobservant I suppose.”

“It's really easy to do,” Harry said.

“Can you show me?”

“Yeah. Do you have your lap top?”

“It's on the other bus, but you can use my phone.”

Louis typed in his pass code, opened his Twitter app and then handed the phone to Harry. Harry made the poll, showing Louis how to do it as he did so, and then handed the phone back to the man as he posted it.

“That's really it?” Louis asked.

“That's it.”

“Wow. You youngsters and your technology.”

Harry laughed, which made his stomach hurt and his head spin. His heart fluttered and he coughed.

“You need to rest,” Louis said.

“It doesn't get more restful than lying in a bunk making polls on Twitter.”

Louis gave Harry a look and acted as if he were going to say something, but stopped when they heard Niall's voice, closely followed by Liam's and Zayn's as the trio climbed back onto the bus. Less than a minute later, Zayn poked his head around the bunk area and, upon seeing that Harry was awake, walked in.

“Hey, don't get too close to each other now,” he said. “We don't want our singer getting a cold.”

“He's worth it,” Louis said, smiling and winking at Harry. Harry really tried to contain his smile, but he failed big time.

“I brought you breakfast in case you didn't want anything on the bus,” Zayn said, handing a paper plate with a bagel over to Harry. Harry thanked him and didn't mention that the bagel had too much bread and that he knew he was going to feel sick if he ate it. He also knew, though, that he was going to pass out at any moment if he didn't eat it and, due to his own big mouth last night, he couldn't come up with a good enough excuse for fainting again, so he took a bite of the bagel before even putting the low-fat cream cheese on the top. (Zayn had brought him both regular cream cheese and low fat, and Harry absolutely loved him.) (Not as much as he loved Louis but still.) (Wait, what?)

“Hungry much?” Zayn asked.

“You have no idea,” Harry said. The food was thick going down his throat, but his stomach rejoiced every time it successfully gained a bit of food. Harry knew its happiness wouldn't last long, but oh well. The way he saw it, he really had no choice but to do this now. The after effects of eating the bagel would be better than not.

As he ate, Louis moved a bit of hair away from Harry's forehead so that he could rest his hand there. Harry kept eating.

“You don't feel warm,” Louis noted.

“I don't think I have a fever,” Harry said after he swallowed the bite he had been working on.

“That's good at least,” Louis said, but he still didn't look completely happy.

“I'm good,” Harry assured him, making sure to smile. “Don't worry.”

Feeling eyes on him that weren't Louis's, Harry looked directly to Liam, whose face was twisted in concern as well. Still looking at him, Harry took another bite. It unnerved him, the way his friend was just watching him eat, but he didn't say anything.

Harry had to stop after half of the bagel was gone. He had been so hungry, but was suddenly so full that he wanted to be sick. Somehow, he managed to fight the nausea and, even more amazing still, he beat the urge to shove his fingers down his throat once he was in the bathroom alone with the bus's shower on. His doctors had told him he should be proud when he fought those urges, but he didn't know why. The only reason he even bothered was because he knew he had to keep something down to ensure that he would make it through the third show in a row that night. Well, and because it was too risky. The bus was small and, even with the shower on and Harry being as quiet as he possibly could, the noise could potentially travel to the others' ears. He could tell them it was only because he was sick but Liam, in the least, would know better.

_Why did you tell him, Harry?_

Once Harry was showered, dressed and had his normal amount of makeup on, he exited the bathroom to be met with a smiling Louis sitting on the couch.

“Do you want to watch a film with us?” he asked. Harry nodded, going over and sitting in the empty space left for him between Louis and Liam.

Only a few minutes into the movie, Harry realized that his and Louis's knees were touching, and Louis probably hadn't done it on purpose, or even noticed, but when Harry looked over, Louis turned his head as well to smile at Harry. Harry returned it a bit, and then Louis blinked, his smile falling off his face as he let out a loud yawn, stretching his arms above his head before he brought them back down; one around Harry's shoulders. A beat of nothingness passed, but then Liam burst into laughter, snorting a couple of times as well. From beside him, Niall chuckled, and the others were at least smiling too.

“Louis!” Liam breathed once he had somewhat gotten control of himself. “Did you just do the stretch and yawn?!”

“Yes,” Louis answered with a smile, unashamed. Liam snorted again and the rest giggled, including Louis. He had the cutest, most angelic giggle, and Harry locked eyes with him, the pure happiness in Louis's making him feel a smidgeon of pure glee for just an instant.

“I think it was very smooth,” Harry said, and situated himself so that his head was resting on Louis's shoulder. Louis wrapped his arm tighter around Harry's body, and the dancer's heart raced. He thought it was in a good way that time. Though he didn't know what part of himself that Louis could possibly be interested in, he was going to hold on to whatever this was for as long as he could.

 

While Louis was busy doing his meet-and-greet before the concert, Harry sat with Niall and Liam, feeling guilt over the fact that Liam was choosing to stay with him rather than hang around the meet-and-greet and find a short-term lover like he had the past couple of nights. The guilt didn't last, though, because now Harry knew that Liam wasn't doing it for fun. Harry wished more than ever that he wouldn't do it at all.

Maybe it wouldn't have been so uncomfortable if they weren't sitting in complete silence, but they were and Harry knew the only reason Liam was there was to keep an eye on him and, of course, Niall was there because Liam was.

The silence was broken when Beatrice approached.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“There's a man here that says he's a friend of yours.”

Harry frowned, not knowing who that could possibly be because he didn't really have any other friends besides the dancers anymore.

Sensing his confusion, Beatrice added,

“He says his name is Dracen.”

Harry only knew one Dracen; his ex, but it had been nearly a year since he had seen him. Still, it wasn't like Dracen was a common name, so he doubted it could be anyone else.

“Would you like to see him?” Beatrice continued.

“Oh, um, sure,” Harry said, still lost in his thoughts of _who_ and _how_ and, most importantly, _why._

The 'who' was answered as soon as Harry was led into the hallway right outside where the meet-and-greet was being held; it was his ex-boyfriend. The other two questions remained to be answered.

Harry had long ago lost all feelings he'd had for Dracen and, though he missed the happiness he'd had for a time with the man, he didn't miss _him_ , and so he didn't know why he got a sharp stab of pain when he saw that it was his former lover inquiring to see him. It didn't help when Dracen smiled, showing that he hadn't felt even an ounce of pain himself.

“Hi!” he greeted the singer cheerfully as Beatrice walked back to Louis, who Harry could see off in the distance. Maybe if he just kept his eyes on him…

But that was weird, so he peeled his eyes from the singer and focused them on the guy before him instead.

“Hi,” Harry said, softer. There was a beat of awkward silence, but then Dracen's smile grew and he said,

“You look great.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, though thought it was funny that he would say that when he weighed less now than he had when the two broke up and the reason for their break up had been because Dracen couldn't deal with Harry's 'weird problems' anymore.

“You're doing good then?” Dracen asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said. There was no way in hell he would ever tell him otherwise.

“Good,” Dracen said. “I'm so glad. I heard that you were one of Louis T.'s dancers! That's awesome! I know how you always liked him.”

“Yeah, he's really nice,” Harry said, though 'nice' didn't even begin to describe the singer.

“I just had a quick meet-and-greet. He seems pretty cool.”

Harry nodded once, bouncing on the balls of his feet and hoping that Dracen felt as uncomfortable as him so that maybe he would leave. When he didn't move, Harry decided to be polite.

“Where are you sitting?” he asked.

“I'm up in the stands, but I think the seats will still be pretty good.”

“I hope so.”

“What are you doing after the show?”

“I don't know,” Harry answered, a ~~bad~~ worse feeling settling in him. “I have to be up early to catch a flight tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

Dracen paused, but then said,

“If you feel up for it, maybe we can hang out after for just a little bit.”

“Okay,” Harry said, because what else could he really say?

 _No_ , he supposed. He could have said no.

“Do you have the same phone number?” Dracen asked.

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I'll talk to you soon.”

Harry nodded and, after giving another blank smile, his ex went to find his friend (Max, Harry remembered) and find their seats. Harry stared after him for a moment before looking to where Louis had been standing, except he was gone, as well as all of the fans. The meet-and-greet was, apparently, over. Harry hurried back to his friends.

***Louis***

He tried really hard not to stare at Harry while he talked to his friend, he really did. Harry had told him that he was single, and if this guy had been his secret boyfriend, then he could have managed to get a VIP pass without having to pay for it. Still, Louis had that uneasy feeling that he knew to be jealousy. That was one of Louis's many flaws; his tendency to get jealous easily, but he could usually hide it well so he didn't really consider it a 'problem.' This time, though...Well, it might be a problem because he already had a strong dislike of this man he didn't know, and he hadn't particularly disliked him only moments ago during their meet-and-greet session. Louis gave himself credit for at least feeling bad about it.

The man talking to Harry was cute; pretty, even. His artfully disheveled hair was just a couple of shades lighter than Harry's and his wide brown eyes were extenuated by the beauty mark at the corner of one. His skin was tan and flawless and his lips were an ungodly pink color. (Though they clashed awfully with Harry's red lips, Louis thought smugly.)

Harry and his guy friend were still talking when the last of Louis's fans were away from the meet-and-greet and Louis didn't even wait for anyone on his team to address him before walking to where Harry had been sitting with Liam and Niall, happy to find that those two were still there.

“Hey,” he greeted, nodding once, and the gesture was returned. “Who's that bloke?” Louis asked, waving over to Harry's friend. He hoped his voice had sounded nonchalant.

“I'm pretty sure it's his ex,” Liam said, and the unpleasant feeling in Louis grew. Liam continued,

“I can't be positive, but I saw some of Harry's old profile pictures on Facebook and he was kissing some guy that looked like him, and I'm pretty sure the name was the same.”

“But they're not together anymore?” Louis asked, and if he was nonchalant before he guessed he was less so now because the corners of Liam's mouth twitched upwards.

“No,” he said. “I haven't even met that guy and I've known Harry since the beginning of the year.”

That made Louis feel a little bit better, but not much.

“It looks like they're done chatting,” Niall commented, perhaps to warn the two, because when Louis turned to look, he saw Harry walking back to the group.

“Sorry about that,” Harry said when he was within earshot.

“What are you sorry for?” Louis asked, trying to make his smile look genuine.

“I didn't know my, erm, friend was coming.”

“No apologies necessary,” Louis said. “I told you that you can bring people backstage to any show.”

Harry shrugged.

“It's just that I haven't talked to him in forever.”

“I'm glad you got to have a reunion then,” Louis said, and of course he didn't mean it, but he was trying to come off as not crazy. For some reason, Liam and Niall were still smiling, looking between the two strangely.

“How are you feeling?” Louis asked Harry, suddenly desperate to change the subject, but also because he genuinely wanted to know.

“I feel a lot better, thanks.”

“So you're good to perform?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.”

“Okay then, as long as you're sure.”

Harry nodded. He did look like he felt better and so, even though he was still a little worried, Louis didn't press it.

 

Unlike the previous night, Harry stayed backstage for a bit after the show before approaching Louis, giving him a smile and leaning down to say in his ear,

“Hey, if it's okay, I'll just take a cab to the hotel because Dracen, my friend from earlier, wants me to meet him at this bar nearby. I promise to be ready for the flight tomorrow.”

“Oh, you're going out?” Louis asked, and then mentally slapped himself. Harry had just literally told him that he was going out. Well, there went him asking the dancer to stay another night in his hotel room, but it was fine if he wanted to hang out with his ex instead, honestly.

“Yeah,” Harry said, backing up and giving Louis a once-over before leaning to his ear again. “Do you want to come?”

“Oh, um, no. I mean, I don't want to be an annoyance to you two.”

Louis wanted to be more than annoyance between the two, but, again, he was trying to keep up his 'sane' appearance.

“You won't be,” Harry assured him. “You should come if you want to.”

“Even if I have to bring security?”

“Of course. Only if you want to though. We'll invite the other three too, and whoever else you want.”

“Okay,” Louis said, afraid that if he rejected Harry's invitation one more time then it would be revoked completely.

Harry waved over Liam, and so, naturally, Niall followed as well as Zayn.

“Do you all want to go to a bar tonight?” Harry asked.

“I'm in,” Liam said.

“Of course you are,” Zayn commented.

“I'm in too,” Niall said.

“Alright, fine,” Zayn agreed. Smiling, Harry looked back to Louis.

“So are you coming, super star?”

“Super star?” Louis asked, one eyebrow quirked up.

“That's my 'tiny dancer,'” Harry answered. Louis ignored the fact that Niall, Liam and Zayn looked both confused and utterly disgusted (Zayn), and he smiled.

“Okay, I'll come,” the singer finally agreed, and Harry's smile grew. His eyes were even sparkling a little, but Louis couldn't help but to wonder if that was all thanks to his ex.

Since they now had plans, Louis had Beatrice end the backstage shenanigans early and take them to the hotel as soon as possible. Once there, everyone showered and got changed and then met out behind the hotel, where Louis's driver was waiting to take the boys and Alberto to the bar.

When they arrived at their destination and went inside, they immediately found Dracen sitting at the bar talking to some already intoxicated man. Louis saw Liam roll his eyes, and then the dancer sauntered away to stand next to Harry's ex-boyfriend and tap him on the shoulder. Some words were exchanged, Liam nodded to the group still standing by the door and then Dracen smiled and waved them all over.

“Hey, Haz,” he greeted, pulling his former lover into a side hug. Harry looked a little awkward about it, so Louis thought with hope that maybe he wasn't interested in a reconciliation with the other, but then again, Harry was just kind of an awkward person by nature. It wasn't a bad thing and, as far as Louis saw it, was actually part of his charm.

When they broke apart, Harry turned back to the group, smiling slightly, as if embarrassed.

“Um, this is Dracen,” he said. “Dracen, this is Liam, Niall, Zayn and, of course, Louis. Oh, and Alberto, Louis's body guard. Sorry, Alberto.”

“Harry and I used to date,” Dracen said, even though not a single soul had asked. Louis bit the insides of his cheeks, but it was more than jealousy this time. He also wondered why the pair had broken up and thought in his head that the ass hole better not have hurt Harry.

“Max is in the other room,” Dracen said to Harry. “You remember Max, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on.”

Dracen hopped down from his chair and the others followed him to the next room, where karaoke was being held.

“My mate is the one singing, if that's what you can call it,” Dracen told the group after giving a loud laugh. “I apologize for the damage your ear drums may endure.”

Before anyone could say anything, Dracen continued,

“Hey, Haz, you should do a song!”

“I don't think so,” Harry said, his eyes widening as he looked at Dracen like he had lost his mind completely.

“Why not?” the man asked. “You have an amazing voice.”

“I didn't know that you sang,” Louis commented, smiling at his dancer. Was there anyone more talented in this world? Probably not.

“I don't sing,” Harry insisted.

“Don't lie,” Dracen said. “You're really good.”

“Go do a song, Harry!” Liam jumped on the 'torture Harry' band wagon.

“I'm not that good,” Harry said.

“You don't think you're good at dancing either, but you're clearly wrong about that,” Liam pointed out. “I'm going to go put in a song for you.”

“Liam! No! Liam!” Harry called, but his friend ignored him, swinging his hips seductively as he went to the dj booth. Louis wondered if Liam even concentrated on being seductive at this point or if it just came to him when he was in this element.

“You don't have to actually go up there if you don't want to,” Louis told Harry in an attempt to make him feel better.

“You should though,” Dracen butted in. Harry didn't say a word, and so his ex took that as an opportunity to lead the others to a table. Dracen, Louis and Harry took the bench side while Niall and Zayn sat in the chairs across from them, leaving an empty one in the middle for Liam.

“Okay, lads, first shots are on me,” Louis spoke. “What do you all like?”

Everyone gave their orders except Liam, who was still up looking through the song book; his booty out for all the world to see, but Niall assured Louis that Liam would drink anything. Louis took a couple of moments to pick his dancer a drink in his mind, and then he turned to Harry.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“I'm not thirsty, thanks,” Harry said.

“You don't drink alcohol because you're thirsty,” Louis commented with a wink. “You don't even want something to help you get through your song?”

Harry hesitated.

“Okay, maybe one,” he agreed.

“What do you like?”

“Tequila shot, right, Harry?” Dracen asked with a smug smile on his face. Louis's dislike was quickly turning to hatred, but Harry nodded.

“You prefer pure tequila shots?!” Louis asked, alarming the dancer.

“Yeah...”

“You are something, Styles.”

Harry looked unsure, so Louis was quick to add,

“That's not a bad thing, I promise.”

Alberto went with Louis and when Louis offered to buy him a shot as well, just stared at the singer like he was a dumb child. Well, to the older man, Louis supposed that was exactly what he was, but he knew that Alberto loved him anyway, and he helped carry the shots back to the group once the order was ready.

Liam had returned to the table by that point and screamed with unfiltered excitement when he found out that one of the shots were for him. The whole table jumped and then stared as Liam lifted his glass, put it to his lips and tilted his head back, the shot disappearing in a matter of a second.

“What?” Liam asked when he saw that everyone was staring. “I didn't drink anything yesterday.”

“How are you surviving?” Zayn asked sarcastically.

“Miserably,” Liam answered anyway.

“Hey, Liam, have you heard of this great program called Alcoholics Anonymous?” Zayn asked, and the group started to laugh until Liam said, his voice nearly a shout,

“I'm not an alcoholic!”

Louis sobered quickly at the anger in Liam's voice. Zayn gave the others a nervous glance and then gave their friend a small smile as he reached out to massage his shoulder gently.

“It was a joke. Calm down, mate.”

A beat of awkward silence fell between them all, but Louis came to his senses and broke it quickly.

“Aaaanyway...Cheers!”

He held up his glass and those who still had their drinks followed suit, taking their shots after Louis made Alberto count to three (which he did, very unamused-like.)

“So, Liam, what song did you sign me up for?” Harry asked, and the tension on Liam's face immediately fell away so an ornery one could take its place.

“You will see,” he said. Harry glared, but before he could continue trying to convince his friend to tell him, Dracen's friend that had butchered his karaoke song came over to join the group.

“Hello!” he said cheerily. “Harry! Nice to see you again!”

“You too,” Harry said, and in the commotion of everything, only Louis and Max heard the low whistle Dracen let out before nodding to Liam. Max gave Liam the once-over before smirking and bringing a chair into the small space between Liam and Niall.

It was official. Louis hated these men.

“Hey, babe, what's your name?” Max asked Liam, and in that moment, Louis took selfish pleasure in the fact that he could see his hatred for the pair reflected on Niall's face.

Harry's phone, which he had set on the table, started buzzing, causing the dancer to jump a little.

“It's my sister,” he said. “I'll be right back.”

“Okay, but hurry up!” Liam said. “You don't want to miss your song!”

“I don't?” Harry asked, but then assured Liam that he would be back and if not, to just have someone run out and get him.

“He's a really good singer,” Max commented.

“I haven't heard him sing before,” Liam said.

“You'll be amazed. Anyway...”

Max lifted Liam's empty shot glass.

“You look empty. Can I buy you another one?”

Liam told him that he could, and so while Max went to order him a drink-Liam did not follow, Louis noted with amusement-Dracen turned to Louis.

“I'm glad you have Harry on your tour,” he said. “He's always loved you.”

Louis blushed, which he didn't usually do for fan compliments. He appreciated them, of course, but they were expected when someone approached him for a photo or something else of the kind.

“I'm so glad to have him,” Louis replied. “He's wonderful.”

“Yeah. I'm happy he's finally doing better.”

The smile that had, at some unknown point, formed on Louis's face slipped away to turn to a confused frown.

“What do you mean?”

“From his…disorder thing.”

Louis simply stared, even more confused and worried now too. He glanced to the others briefly to see if they might have any idea what this man was talking about. Zayn looked just as confused as Louis did, but Liam and Niall were looking at Dracen with something that looked like warning in their eyes.

“His eating disorder thing,” Dracen explained with a shrug, like something of that nature would be no big deal.

“Eating disorder?” Louis repeated, basically trying to wrap it around his own mind, but Dracen decided to elaborate.

“Yeah. He used to starve himself, I guess. I don't know, he was fine when I met him because he'd already been in a mental institution and stuff, but he always had confidence issues and then went on a strange diet after we'd dated for almost two years. I didn't see the issue with it, really, because it wasn't like he was super skinny or anything, but his family wanted me to keep an eye on him, and it just got so tiring monitoring everything he ate and making sure he didn't go to the bathroom and throw it up afterward, or whatever they do.”

“You poor thing,” Niall commented, his voice drenched with sarcasm. Dracen didn't get it.

“I know, right?” he said. “It's pretty gross, really. I don't know why anyone does that. It's so weird.”

Dracen shrugged while the others stared, dumbfounded.

“You realize that it's an actual _mental_ _disorder_ , right?” Zayn asked, speaking to the other as if he were dumb. He may be right about that, actually, Louis thought, and meant no offense to people who weren't the brightest but were actually good people. Zayn continued, “If what you're saying is true, then his brain doesn't allow himself to view his body or food in the way it does for people without the disorder.”

“It's still strange,” Dracen said with another shrug. “Anyway, it doesn't matter because he seems to be better now anyway.”

No one said a word; just took turns staring across the table at each other. The silence went on, and the tension was only made worse when Max returned.

“Sorry it took so long, doll,” he said, taking his seat by Liam again and setting a couple of shot glasses in front of him. “The bar was really busy.”

“Was it, or were you distracted by some other drunk thing?” Liam asked, sounding falsely innocent, and then he took his shots while Max gaped at him. He never did answer the question, even after Liam had finished, Louis noted. How in the world did precious Harry ever get involved with these two?

And what was taking Harry so long?

Louis was just about to go check on him when the dancer re-entered and took his spot beside the singer again. The site of Harry sent a familiar warmth swelling up in Louis's chest, but it made him hurt now too. He hoped that what Dracen had told them about him wasn't true, but he doubted he would just make something like that up, and he was right; even Louis could see that Harry had confidence issues. He'd thought that was all it was, and the possibility that it was something deeper scared him.

Needing suddenly to hold him close, Louis wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders and pulled him over gently.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he greeted him with a soft, warm smile. Harry smiled a little as well, but asked,

“How much did you have to drink while I was gone?”

“None,” Louis answered. “Why?”

Harry simply shook his head and diverted his eyes away. A moment later, Louis realized why he did when he noticed Dracen staring.

“Are you two a thing?” he asked. Harry and Louis looked at each other, and Louis had no idea what his face was showing, but Harry's looked uncertain and maybe even a little scared.

“N-no,” he stuttered, and then Liam spoke up.

“It's obvious they like each other,” he said. “They're just playing hard to get.”

“Do you even know what hard to get is?” Max teased, smirking at the man who's thigh he was currently squeezing. Niall's head whipped toward him so fast that Louis thought his neck had to have cracked, but he didn't seem to care if it did. He was staring at Max as though he was plotting his untimely demise in his head.

“Yes, actually, I do,” Liam said, replying calmly. “For instance, I got you to buy me two drinks, but you're still not getting in my pants tonight. Or any other night for that matter. Now if you'll excuse me...”

Liam lifted Max's hand from his leg and then let go, causing it to drop down and hit the chair.

“...I'm going to go change Harry's song.”

There was yet another awkward silence as the dancer walked away-though Louis could swear he could hear Alberto chuckling from behind him-and everyone besides Max, who was understandably trying to hide himself in plain sight, focused on watching Liam at the dj booth, his stance much less flirty than before. The dj nodded, and as soon as Liam turned back, smiled and began walking towards the group again, Harry's name was called.

“Oh no,” he said out loud, causing Louis to chuckle. “Someone has to go sing with me!”

Everyone looked to Louis, but Liam missed the memo and volunteered himself, which was more than fine with Louis. He would rather just watch.

The song that Liam had chosen-or rather, the song he had changed the original to-ended up being one of Louis's, titled 'Goodbye for the Last Time.' It was a song about letting an ex back into your life and then realizing that their intentions weren't pure and so ending it for good.

When Louis saw the title up on the karaoke screen, he choked on the piece of ice he had been chewing on. Zayn slammed him on the back, which didn't really help, but luckily, he sorted himself out quickly. Harry was looking back with a worried smile on his face, but Louis smiled.

“Go Harry! Go Liam!” he cheered, and they both smiled before turning back to the screen.

There was one thing that Louis had to agree with Dracen on and that was that Harry's voice was absolutely amazing. Ironically, even though Harry's ex had been the one to encourage him to sing in the first place, he and Max were now the only ones that didn't look happy over the performance. Even tables they didn't know where cheering and hollering, some singing along, but not so loud as to be heard over Harry and Liam. Liam, however, was barely singing. Louis was pretty sure he was lip synching and had only gone up with Harry for moral support.

Halfway through the song, Dracen and Max got up and left without a word.

Once the song ended, every single person in the place cheered and some even whistled. Louis could see the redness of Harry's cheeks way from his spot at the table.

“Your voice is truly amazing, Harry,” Louis told the man when he sat back down beside him, and Louis leaned forward to kiss his cheek. Harry's face grew redder.

“Thank you,” he said, not looking directly in the singer's eyes.

“You sounded like a professional,” Louis continued. Harry's face grew redder still.

“Thank you,” he said again and then, after looking around, “Where did Dracen and Max go?”

“I don't know,” Louis said, taking it upon himself to fluff up the back of Harry's hair and twist his finger lightly around a loose curl, “but you can do better than that.”

“Why do you say that?” Harry asked, looking genuinely curious. “Dracen is a good guy.”

Niall took it upon himself to answer for Louis.

“Dracen is a pompous dick,” he said.

“He's just confident,” Harry said. “That's not a bad thing.”

“Do you want him back?” Louis asked, doing his best to not sound like he was judging Harry or hoping against all hope that his answer would be no.

To his relief, Harry shook his head.

“You sure?” Louis asked.

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Hey, Louis, you should go up there and sing 'Jealous' by Nick Jonas,” Liam commented, and Louis laughed. He may have a jealousy issue, but he was still self-aware enough to laugh at himself when he was being ridiculous.

Looking back to Harry, Louis let his curl pop back into place and then ran his hand through the back of his hair once more before resting his arm around his shoulders.

“You really are so gorgeous,” he commented. Harry looked down, and Louis could see a bit of those dimples even though Harry said,

“No, stop.”

“Why don't you like compliments?” Louis asked, really wanting to know. Harry didn't answer, so Louis didn't press it.

“Well, I'm just telling an honest observation anyway,” Louis said. “You're so pretty, but in a handsome way.”

“Louis, stop!” Harry groaned, throwing his head back, but he was still smiling so Louis went on.

“You have the most beautiful smile.”

“Louis!” Harry said with a laugh.

“Your laugh makes birds sing.”

“Stop! Seriously, you're being really ridiculous now.”

“Your skin glistens like diamonds.”

“Shut up!”

“Make me,” Louis said, sticking out his tongue. Then, Harry did something that Louis had been hoping for but never expected. He balled his hands into fists around the singer's shirt and moved in to him closer and closer until they were inches apart. The dancer's eyes had started to close, but when he stopped, he opened them up again, looking up at Louis, though the older man's shirt was still twisted in his hands.

Louis's heart was racing. He prayed Harry didn't feel it, nor was able to tell the way his breathing had suddenly become quite labored.

“Did you change your mind?” Louis asked softly, partly teasing but mostly serious and seriously hoping that Harry said no.

“I'll get you sick,” Harry pointed out.

“I don't care.”

“But you have the tour.”

“I've performed with worse than a cold before.”

Harry thought about it and then got a little closer, but still not close enough to kiss. His eyes couldn't decide whether they wanted to close or stay open. His beautiful, beautiful eyes…

Louis realized he hadn't yet complimented them.

“Your eyes are the purest green which one could get high off of,” he said.

“Oh my god!” Harry exclaimed, and then dove in the rest of the way for the kiss. His eyes shut and at the first sign of contact, Louis's did too. His heart somehow raced even faster, his palms grew sweaty and his head spun, but Louis felt amazing. He hadn't felt this amazing in…

Well, honestly, he wasn't sure he'd ever felt this amazing before and he suddenly regretted using the cliché “never felt this way before” line in a previous song about a different man whom he had most certainly not felt this way for.

Everything about this felt right. Harry's full lips against Louis's thinner ones felt right. Harry's long, lean body against Louis's more compact, curvier one felt right. Louis felt safe, and he felt warm and he felt all those ways he wasn't sure people actually felt when they found where they belonged, but he did feel it now. Was it completely insane that he thought he might have found where he belonged after all?

When they broke apart, both men were breathing a little heavier and it took a minute for Harry to relax his grip on Louis's shirt, his hand sliding down the singer's body and resting on the bench next to them.

“Well,” Louis began, “I don't know about the pompous dick, but confident is a good look on _you_.”

Though Harry's blush had yet to fade all the way, the part that had faded came back with a vengeance and he made a small sound as he moved down to hide his face in Louis's chest. Louis laughed warmly and pulled him closer, keeping his arms wrapped around the other's middle. He wanted to keep him there forever, he decided.

Alberto shifted from behind Louis, causing the singer to somewhat come back to reality and realize that the guard was trying to hide Louis from a couple of people attempting to take creeper shots of him and Harry. Louis's hold on the dancer grew tighter still, and he knew his main goal now was to protect him from both the outside world and from himself.


	14. Chapter 14

***Niall***

Niall was so proud of Liam that he thought he might explode. Maybe he had only rejected Max because of the business between Dracen and Harry, but still; he'd said no, and more than that, he'd put Max in his place. Niall loved Liam. He deserved so much more than to be taken in for a night by a sleaze ball that only wanted to get him drunk and have his way with him. He deserved to be looked at with more than pillow cases and twisted sheets in the other guy's eyes; deserved more than hands on his leg, squeezing his thigh, potentially hard enough to bruise. Liam should be viewed with love and care and should receive only the gentlest of touches because, despite the tough exterior he put out, Niall knew he was a soft, warm person in need of the exact same thing.

Niall was just thinking these things when his soft, warm, precious Liam elbowed him so hard in the rib that Niall gasped and jumped.

“Ow! What-” he began, but when he looked over at the other man, Liam had a finger held up to his lips and nodded across the table. Niall moved his gaze towards the gesture and then his eyes widened as he was met with the site of Harry nearly on top of Louis, the two kissing like there was no one else around.

His mouth hanging open, Niall looked to Liam, then back, just to make sure that his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. They weren't, and when he looked at Liam again, the man was beaming. Niall smiled too, and then shared another grin with Zayn, although he was too hesitant to be completely joyous. It was clear that Louis and Harry liked each other, and Niall had been rooting for them-still was-but with all of the new information that they had received that night, he was leery. He'd known of Harry's disorder, but not to the extent that he knew of it now; he hadn't known that he'd actually been in an institution for it, assuming Dracen was telling the truth, which Niall believed he was. Why would he need to lie?

That didn't mean, of course, that Dracen wasn't a pompous dick; he was, and Niall didn't think that Louis was anything like the guy, but he did also know that being in a relationship with someone who had an eating disorder couldn’t have been easy. Of course, that didn't give Dracen the right to leave Harry when he needed him most, or come back later and use the struggle to make himself seem like a (failed) tragic hero, but still. It was hard enough for him to think of Harry doing those things to himself, so he couldn't imagine if Harry had been his boyfriend.

Now, he could only hope that Louis had really taken in everything that was being told to him and that he knew what he was getting himself into. Niall didn't want Harry's emotions toyed with.

After a bit, Louis (and Alberto, of course) went off to the bathroom and Niall made a fib about having to go too so that he could follow.

“Hey,” Niall spoke as soon as the bathroom door had swung shut behind them. Louis turned, giving a small smile, and Niall began. “Sorry, I don't want to be weird. I just wanted to talk to you real quick.”

“Okay. About what?” Louis asked, turning to face Niall in front of his selected urinal.

“Harry,” Niall said, “and his potential eating disorder.”

Louis frowned.

“That was in the past, right?” he asked. “I mean, I know those things stay with you forever, but he's better for the most part, right?”

Niall hesitated before answering.

“I don't know,” he said, and it wasn't a complete lie because he honestly didn't know where exactly Harry stood with his disorder at this time. He'd told Liam about sometimes throwing up his food, and that was a problem, but was it like it had been in the past, when he'd needed a mental institution? Niall did not yet know. He felt bad still, knowing that he was keeping at least some of the truth from Louis, but he honestly had no idea what would be best for Harry at the time, and had to make a snap decision to give Liam a chance to work on their friend before mentioning it to his possible future boyfriend. Everyone had things they would rather keep a secret and Niall technically wasn't even supposed to know any of this about Harry yet.

“He is really thin,” Louis spoke, seeming deep in thought, “but he's a dancer, so that's not totally weird.”

“But don’t you think he's lost some weight since rehearsals started?” Niall asked. He didn't want to tell Louis what little he knew about Harry and his problem, but he also didn't want to dismiss the fact that there was a problem.

“Maybe a little,” Louis admitted after thinking about it, and his frown grew. “He's been doing a lot of cardio though.”

“Okay...”

“I'm worried about him too,” Louis said to Niall's unspoken statement. “I just don't want to make a big deal out of this until we know that it is still a big deal.”

Niall nodded. That made sense, but he still hated it. He hated this situation, and he didn't blame Harry, but _why_ did it have to happen to him? Why did it have to happen to anyone for that matter?

“Would you like to talk more?” Louis asked, genuinely wanting to continue if Niall did so, but the dancer shook his head.

“I guess that's it for now.”

“Okay. Here.”

Louis dug into his back pocket for his wallet, took out some money and handed it to Niall.

“Will you get some food for all of us, please? Whatever you want. I don't care.”

Niall did, putting in his order at the bar real quick before going to sit back down at the table.

“Did you two have fun in there?” Zayn teased, and Niall glared.

“Louis's only got eyes for Harry,” he said, and noticed their friend look down quickly as a blush rose to his cheeks.

When their food arrived at the table, Niall watched Harry's facial expression, and his heart fell when he saw that it was one of horror. The look didn't last long before the dancer gulped and forced a smile, but Niall had seen it.

Whether anyone else noticed or not, Niall wasn't sure because they all dug in right away. Harry seemed to try to make himself disappear into the seat.

“Go ahead, Harry,” Zayn said, nodding towards the baskets of bar food. Niall felt terrible, like they were testing Harry, which, he guessed, they were. He hated that too, but he despised the thought of Harry starving more.

After hesitating for a moment, knowing all eyes were on him, Harry took a couple of nachos from the basket nearest him and put them on a napkin, taking a smile bite from the first one under the careful watch of the others. Everyone stopped studying him as soon as he took that bite, but Niall stole a couple more glances, not feeling comforted in the slightest.

 

Once the baskets of food were emptied and everyone's tabs cleared up, the group headed back to the hotel. The car ride was silent, everyone tired, until Liam sighed dramatically.

“Is there a problem?” Zayn asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Should I have had sex with Max?” Liam asked, and something unpleasant stirred within Niall.

“Are you kidding? No way,” Zayn said. “He was a jerk and not cute at all.”

“You don't think anyone is cute,” Liam pointed out.

“I don't feel attraction towards people, but I can still appreciate beauty,” Zayn told him.

“It's not like it really matters what he looks like,” Louis piped in, “but his personality was a zero, so, no, you definitely shouldn't have had sex with him.”

Liam sighed again and looked to Harry.

“Do you have any better friends from your past that you can resurrect?”

Niall had to bite the insides of his cheeks.

“I don't think so,” Harry said, and then, “but you have a guy sitting right next to you that likes you pretty well, I believe.”

The only person sitting next to Liam was Niall, and his face grew hot. Liam, however, didn't seem to take Harry seriously, and he snorted.

“I can't see our little hopeless romantic here falling for someone like me. He needs someone who is actually emotionally available.”

“Why don't you let Niall decide what he wants and needs?” Louis asked. Niall, who had taken to staring past Harry and out the window at nothing, was forced to acknowledge the conversation when all eyes fell on him and refused to look away. He hated all of them. Well, all of them except for Liam because, even though he wanted to hate him as well, that was impossible.

 _Might as well go for it,_ Niall told himself. _What have you got to lose? It's not like Liam is actually anywhere near being yours anyway, no matter what you tell yourself in your head._

“Okay, Liam, here's the thing,” Niall said, keeping the tone of his voice cool even though inside he was anything but. “You're gorgeous, sweet and talented and you have so much love in you to give other people, so whenever you decide to actually let someone give some of that love back to you, let me know.”

Niall didn't know what everyone had expected him to say, but a shocked silence fell upon the group at his words and lasted for the rest of the car ride.

 

Since they had all left the nightly backstage party early, there was still an unopened wine bottle left, and Louis had kindly given it to Liam to finish off. As soon as they were in the hotel room, Liam made a beeline for his night stand, where the bottle was sitting, and popped it open, taking a huge swig as the cork rolled underneath the opposite bed. Wordlessly, Niall went to the bathroom to change and brush his teeth. It didn't take long, but by the time he was back, Liam already had a good portion of the wine gone. Niall didn't know why he was surprised.

Still keeping silent-Niall had said far too much earlier-the smaller dancer climbed onto his bed and placed the pillow against the head board, deciding to just sit and relax for a few minutes before attempting to fall asleep.

From the bed next to his, Niall heard Liam shuffling around and assumed he was going to the bathroom to get ready for sleeping as well, but in the next moment, his bed dipped down and when he looked up, Liam gave him a small smirk and climbed over to straddle his legs. Niall raised an eyebrow. He would be lying if he said that Liam's weight on top of him didn't feel good, but he was starting to think that Liam had misinterpreted his earlier speech.

That theory was proven when Liam leaned forward, going in for a kiss, and though Niall didn't want to stop him, he wanted more to not be another one night fling for Liam, and so he placed his hand on the other guy's chest and gently pushed him back, just a bit. Liam was still sitting on his legs.

“What are you doing?” Niall asked in response to Liam's questioning gaze.

“I thought you wanted to have sex. Er...'make love,' I mean,” Liam said.

“No,” Niall told him. “That isn't what I meant back there.”

“What could you have possibly meant then?” Liam asked, clearly a bit annoyed. Niall wanted to feel bad, but couldn't.

“I meant that when you're ready to be respected for more than just your body, meaning when you're ready to have a conversation with someone about more than what sex position you both like or, I don't know, maybe even go on a godforsaken date, then to let me know.”

Liam's eyes widened and he backed off Niall quicker than Niall had ever seen him do anything.

“I don't date,” he said.

“I know,” Niall sighed.

“Sorry,” Liam said, and he did sound a bit like he meant it. He added, “But you're not missing anything anyway.”

Niall was more than ready to argue that statement, but before he could get a word out, Liam was off his bed, picking his wine bottle up from off the floor and taking another drink. He'd only managed to take one step away before Niall grabbed onto his arm, stopping him.

“Wait,” the blonde said, and then, gently, took the bottle away from the other man. “You don't need this.”

Liam frowned, staring at Niall's hand in disbelief as he set the bottle on the night stand and then took Liam's hand, pulling him onto the bed.

“I might not need it, but I want it,” Liam insisted.

“I know,” Niall said, pushing Liam onto his side and then laying down behind him, one arm wrapping tight around his middle.

“What are we doing?”

“Cuddling,” Niall replied, his eyes growing heavy immediately. Liam felt so right in Niall's arms, just like he fit perfectly, and Niall thought the other man had to notice it too.

“What are you doing?” Liam asked after nearly a minute had passed.

“Cuddling,” Niall reminded him.

“No, I mean...I'm never going to change.”

“Hm,” Niall hummed, pretending the statement didn't send a jolt of hurt through him. “You're not uncomfortable, are you?”

“As long as you know what I said is true, it's fine,” Liam said.

“I know,” Niall assured him, though he still wasn't completely convinced. Maybe he was just in denial, but either way, he wasn't giving up yet.

“Did someone hurt you, Liam?” he asked after a few more moments had gone by. Liam hesitated before answering.

“Everyone has been hurt by someone.”

“Yeah, maybe, but not so badly that they shut down and pretend that they don't feel love.”

There was another pause from the other man.

“You're dramatic,” he said finally. “Good night, Nialler.”

“Good night,” Niall said, willing to let Liam drop the subject for now, but insisting that he hold the man tighter.

He didn't even think Liam was conscious when he put his hands on top of Niall's folded ones a couple minutes later.

 

***Louis***

Harry and Louis had both done one last shot before leaving the bar that night, and even though it was only one and they had eaten, it had sent both of them back to the realm of 'tipsy.' He thought they were faking sobriety well and was giddy that it was like their own little secret that they weren't sober, and they shared many subtle glances and smiles when the others weren't paying attention.

“You're coming back to my room, right?” Louis asked Harry once they reached the hotel and climbed out of the car.

“Harry's things have already been taken to your room,” Alberto told the two. They both giggled.

The dancer changed in Louis's bathroom and though Louis felt like he was invading his privacy, he listened outside the bathroom door for just a few moments, making sure that he didn't make himself sick or anything of the sort. All was quiet, so Louis smiled and walked to the bed area to get changed, feeling better about the whole situation.

_He had kissed Harry!_

When the younger man emerged just a couple minutes later, he dropped his clothes on top of the bag sitting by the bed before plopping down onto the mattress and letting out a big sigh. Louis climbed over top of him to lay on his other side and fought with the comforter until they each had the sheet across their bodies. Harry's eyes had been closed but he opened them when Louis stopped struggling and gave him a small smile.

“Sorry that Dracen was a jerk,” he said.

“It's not your fault,” Louis told him. “I'm totally judging your taste in men now, though.”

“But I like you,” Harry said, and Louis's heart skipped a beat. He smiled.

“I guess you're redeemed then.”

Louis leaned forward, aiming to kiss Harry's forehead but, apparently feeling bold, Harry moved his head so that Louis got his lips instead. That was perfectly fine with Louis, of course.

“I like you too, by the way,” he said when they had finished their kiss. Harry simply hummed. “I do,” Louis insisted.

“Good night, Louis,” Harry said.

“Good night, tiny dancer.”

Harry let out a little laugh and then took Louis's hand in his, squeezing it a couple of times, gently, before loosening his grip and relaxing his muscles. He seemed to fall asleep almost immediately and Louis had to really work to resist kissing him one more time, too afraid to wake him up.

Laying there, he thanked all the higher powers that may be that Harry got better. He couldn't imagine never meeting him, and he didn't like to think about Harry suffering like that.

Just as Louis was starting to drift off, a few unsettling memories placed themselves at the forefront of his mind and his eyes shot open, the singer taking in the sleeping dancer's form, his worry growing. He was forced to revisit the time during rehearsal when Harry had almost fainted (and the more recent time too), and then said he was getting in shape for tour. He thought of Harry shying away from cameras and compliments, and how Liam had to nearly force the pizza down his throat just a couple nights ago. Suddenly, Louis wasn't so sure that Harry had gotten better at all.

Swallowing hard, Louis closed his eyes again. He was much too tired and intoxicated to figure out how to help Harry right now, but he would, first thing in the morning, knowing he wouldn't get any true peace until he knew that Harry was at peace with himself.

 

When Louis's alarm went off, both men groaned together again.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Louis greeted with barely any voice, and he turned his head to smile at the other, but saw that he had fallen asleep again already. Louis quickly turned off his alarm and placed a very gentle kiss on Harry's forehead, deciding that he could let him sleep for a few more minutes.

Louis took a quick shower and saw that Harry was still asleep when he emerged from the bathroom, despite the fact that Louis had dropped his shampoo bottle twice, and cursed both times. Still, since Louis tended to move slowly in the mornings, he figured that Harry could snooze for a little longer while Louis hurried downstairs to get breakfast for the two of them.

It took much longer than it should have for Louis to get food,, but as he stared at the options he had, he was at a loss. He had no idea what Harry ate, or if he ate at all. Well, he _did_ eat, he knew. He'd gone to Louis's house for breakfast and/or dinner more than once while rehearsals were still going on, and he had eaten pizza the other night, even if he hadn't wanted to. Dracen had mentioned monitoring Harry to make sure he didn't throw up his food, but Louis was almost certain he hadn't while at his house. The other night was a mystery, because he had looked quite ill after ingesting the food, but he had no proof.

Louis didn't want to not put enough food on Harry's plate and have him go hungry or think that was all he was 'allowed' to eat, but he didn't want to put too much and overwhelm him.

Figuring that Harry could just not eat what he didn't feel comfortable eating if there was too much, Louis gathered a combination of fruits, a couple of waffles and a muffin for both of them and then ventured back to the room.

He knew his team would have his head for it later, but Louis had gone down without Alberto or any other form of security, and so he was stopped by fans more often than usual. He didn't mind, though was internally panicking at the time ticking away and also about the fact that he was about to drop a plate, but, luckily, Zayn noticed the struggle and helped Louis get away and carry the food back to his room.

“Are you going to make sure he eats?” Zayn asked, his eyebrows pulled together in concern. Louis nodded, not feeling right conspiring against Harry when he was just on the other side of the door. After opening the door, Louis assured Zayn that he could handle it and thanked him, taking both of their plates back over to the bed.

The fan encounters had put him a bit behind schedule, but Louis was happy to find that Harry was already up and in the shower, and Louis put his plate on the nightstand, taking just a small bite of his own waffle.

It didn't take Harry long and when he came back to the bed area, his wet hair had yet to be put up. Louis kind of hoped he left it down for a while, mesmerized by his curls.

“Good morning. How are you feeling?” Louis asked. The dancer still looked a bit paler than Louis was used to, but Harry put on a small smile and said,

“I'm fine. How are _you_ feeling?”

“I'm fine,” Louis answered with a frown. “Why?”

“It sounds like you're getting sick now too.”

When he had awoken, Louis had assumed his voice had just yet to wake itself, and he had barely said a word to the fans-just a hi and then posing for a picture-but now that he'd spoken more, he knew that Harry was right. His voice was pretty shot. He knew he wasn't getting sick, though, and gave Harry a smile.

“No, I'm fine,” Louis tried to assure him, but Harry didn't look convinced, and his smile had melted away.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. My voice is just tired from doing a show three nights in a row and then not getting a lot of sleep last night. I'm okay.”

Wanting to focus instead on Harry, Louis nodded to the plate sitting on the nightstand.

“I brought you some breakfast,” he said, taking a bite from the plate in his own lap.

“Oh. Thank you,” Harry said, sitting on the bed next to Louis and looking at the plate for just a moment before picking it up and eating a strawberry. The two were quiet as they ate, Louis trying not to stare, but being unable to notice that Harry was only eating the fruit. He told himself not to be too nervous about that because at least he was eating something, but he didn't know how fruit would get him to survive the morning.

“Do you happen to have a napkin?” Harry asked once the fruit was gone.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.”

Louis handed him a napkin from the pile he'd kept under his plate on his lap and Harry thanked him before starting in on the waffle. Relief coursed through Louis.

Harry finished eating before Louis-and Louis was very happy to see that he'd eaten most of what he'd given him-and then the dancer got up to throw both of their plates away. Louis half expected him to make a beeline to the bathroom afterward, but he didn't.

To Louis's pleasure, Harry ran out of time to do his hair before they had to head outside to meet the rest. Louis couldn't stop himself from bouncing a curl on their way out the door and Harry shot a curious look back to him. Louis smiled guiltily.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “It's just so curly and pretty.”

Harry only laughed, and Louis picked up his pace to fall in step with the dancer, lacing their free hands together as they walked.

“Good morning!” Beatrice greeted Harry and Louis, two of the last to arrive, by the looks of it.

“Good morning,” they both said, and, instantaneously, Beatrice's eyes widened.

“Louis!” she gasped.

“What?” the singer asked, feeling as if he already knew 'what.'

“Your voice!” she said, confirming Louis's suspicions.

“I'm fine,” Louis assured her, but she didn't appear to be listening as she called over one of the tour medics. Louis rolled his eyes, looking, bored, at Harry while the doctor examined the back of his throat and felt his neck. Harry looked worried, and Louis hated it because he was fine and he didn't want Harry to think he had gotten him ill and refrain from kissing him.

“His throat is a little swollen,” the doctor told Beatrice. “He should recover quickly as long as he rests.”

“It's going to be a really long plane ride if I can't talk,” Louis said.

“Sh!” Beatrice and Harry both hushed him, and Louis tried to hide the fact that he was amused.

“How rude.”

“Sh!”

“Anyways,” Beatrice said when Louis gave an ornery smile but stayed silent, “I sat you and Harry next to each other for the plane ride, Louis. You're welcome. Harry...good luck. Louis sometimes gets scared and faints while flying.”

“That was one time!” Louis defended himself, and Beatrice hushed him again but Harry looked at him, one eyebrow raised but the expression on his face ultimately unreadable.

“What?” he questioned.

“There was one time where Louis thought he heard a strange noise on the plane, convinced himself that we were going down and got so scared that he fainted,” Beatrice explained, her lips forming a tight line so she wouldn't burst into laughter. Louis glared.

“It was only my second plane ride ever,” the singer told Harry.

“Aww,” the dancer cooed, grinning widely. “You're precious.”

“I'm sure they investigated the plane after we landed and found something wrong with it. I probably saved several lives that day.”

“I'm sure,” Harry said. “Congratulations on keeping that out of the media, by the way.”

“I was less known then, and I'm not completely convinced that someone didn't pay them off. It's funny now, but it was humiliating then.”

“You're telling me,” Beatrice spoke. “You were such an embarrassment, waking up and locking yourself in the bathroom to cry over the theory that your career was ruined because of that one moment.”

“Aww,” Harry cooed again.

“Why did you have to tell that part?” Louis questioned the woman. “You really are a mum.”

“Someone has to help your poor mother with the responsibilities. She can't handle you on her own; no one could.”

“My mum loves me and all of the stress I cause her.”

“Sh,” Beatrice and Harry shushed him again when his voice cracked and faded at the end of the sentence, and Harry rested one of his fingers against Louis's lips. Louis smiled, but stayed silent, and that earned him a smile full of dimples as well.

Before boarding the plane, Harry disappeared and Louis was starting to grow worried, but he soon returned with a bag from one of the airport shops in his hand. Louis gave the bag a questioning look.

“Sh,” Harry said before Louis would have had a chance to ask, which he wasn't going to anyway, thank you. “They're just puzzle and game books. I don't know if you even like that kind of thing, but I was trying to think of something you could do where you didn't have to speak.”

Louis smiled, wanting to tell Harry how sweet he was, but knowing his words would be overtaken by Harry silencing him, so he hoped he could see the unspoken words in his grin. Whether he could or not, Harry smiled back.

When he insisted, Harry helped Louis with various word searches and cross word puzzles on the plane. Louis felt much like an old man, but he had a lot of fun, probably mainly because he would have fun doing anything as long as Harry was with him. He found the face he made when he was concentrating extremely cute; the way his full lips pursed and his eyebrows pulled together. He kept that to himself too, at least for the time being.

Any time that a flight attendant stopped by to ask if they needed any refreshments, Harry would thank them for Louis and explain that he was on vocal rest so he wouldn't seem rude. Louis would tell him how grateful he was for that later.

It was only a three hour flight until they got to the layover destination, and they'd eaten a big breakfast, so Louis told himself that he shouldn't be worried when Harry rejected food every time. Dracen had said that Harry seemed better and, sadly, Dracen knew Harry better than Louis did, so Louis tried to take his word for it. He just couldn't, not all the way.

“Hey,” Harry said gently when Louis choked on a piece of cracker, and rubbed his back gently. “Does your throat hurt? Just shake your head or nod.”

Truthfully, it did hurt a little bit, and Louis was starting to be able to feel the swell, hence why he choked in the first place, but he didn't want Harry to worry when he knew that he was going to be perfectly fine, so he shook his head no.

“Good,” Harry said.

“I'm bored though,” Louis said, and Harry glared as he hushed him. Louis smiled and Harry rolled his eyes, turning his head, but Louis still saw the beginning of a grin on his face.

“Yeah, I guess I should have gotten regular books or something too. Crosswords can only be entertaining for so long,” he said once he'd gained composure of himself.

“It's okay,” Louis assured him, very quietly, as he yawned and moved to rest his head on the dancer's shoulder. Harry's hand twitched, as if he was unsure of what his next move should be, or even if he should make a move, but, to Louis's pleasure, he decided to rest his knuckles gently against the singer's thigh, his thumb tracing small circles into his jeans. It was so relaxing, just feeling his touch and watching his hand move that Louis found himself growing tired and, though he hadn't thought he was falling asleep, he must have been drifting off a little, because he jumped when Beatrice said his name from the aisle next to them.

“Don't speak,” she ordered when Louis looked to her. “Dean wants you to facetime him when we land for the layover. I already warned him that your talking has to be at a minimum.”

Louis nodded, still not all with it, and without another word, Beatrice went back to her seat. From beside him, Louis felt Harry's gaze and turned to meet it, smiling to try to erase the worry from the dancer's face. He didn't know what he had to be worried about, but he wasn't going to ask him when their conversation could be heard so easily, so Louis settled for kissing his cheek and resting his head back onto his shoulder.

Only ten minutes later, the plane landed at the airport for the layover and while Liam, Niall and Zayn caught up to sit with them, Louis slipped away to call Dean.

“Hello!” the manager greeted with a wide smile that instantly made Louis suspicious.

“You look way too happy,” Louis noted.

“I'm actually mad at myself for not seeing how good this could be before now.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

“You and Harry.”

“What?”

The suspicious feeling Louis had was slowly forming into something worse.

“That _was_ Harry you were kissing last night, right?” Dean verified.

“Yeah, we kissed, but how do you know about that?”

“The pictures, of course.”

“Pictures?”

Louis had seen the people attempting to take pictures, but had assumed that Alberto had blocked them in time. Sometimes, he could be so stupid.

“Of course fans got pictures, Louis, and they've gone viral already. Everyone and their brother are trying to figure out who the other man is.”

“Oh, shit.”

“No, it's great!” Dean exclaimed gleefully. “They're all saying how sweet you were with him.”

“This isn't great!” Louis said, much less gleefully. His voice cracked and he coughed to clear his throat before continuing. “Harry didn't ask for this.”

“Um...he kind of did when he got involved with a world famous singer, Louis.”

“But I don't think he realizes...”

Louis trailed off, shaking his head as he lost his train of thought, anxiety making it hard to think.

“I should have been smarter,” he said.

“Relax,” Dean said, like he was talking to a ridiculous child. “It will be fine.”

“Harry hates cameras, for fucks sake!”

“He realizes that he's performing onstage in front of thousands of people with cameras...right?”

Louis had to fight not to yell; not that he probably could have even if he wanted to, but still. He really did not appreciate his manager's attitude at the time being.

“Of course he does,” he snapped.

“Then I really don't think this should be much of a problem. Permission to leak the information involving who your 'new man' is?”

“No!”

Dean frowned as Louis took another few moments to clear his throat.

“You don't have my permission to do anything until I talk to Harry.”

“Well then go talk to him will you?” Dean asked with a roll of his eyes. “But make it quick because Beatrice was right; you do sound awful.”

“Fuck you.”

Completely unaffected, Dean smiled.

“Love you, kid.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The two disconnected, but for a couple of moments, Louis didn't move, staring at his phone and feeling sick from nerves. Whatever he had, or was going to have, with Harry had barely begun and now he was wondering if it was going to end already. Many times before he had wondered if he would have already found the love of his life if his career wasn't so obscure and demanding, but he never thought he would give it up for that love until now.

That was probably because he honestly believed that a person could only have one true love in their lifetime and he hadn't met Harry until just recently.

***Harry***

Though he didn't have much energy, he felt like he just had to move. His legs were jumpy and, without Louis there, he felt uneasy. He didn't know why, but he was worried about the call Louis was making to Dean. Had the manager found out about him and Harry? Was he angry about it? All of the people that Louis had been with, or at least pretended to be with, were already in the business and they were gorgeous. Harry wasn't Louis's type, at least publicly (though probably not privately either, really) and if it came down to it, Harry knew Louis would cut things off with him in a heartbeat.

He needed to distract himself.

Harry didn't know how long Louis would be gone, Harry had a feeling it would be at least a few minutes, which worried him as well because Louis's voice really had sounded rough and Harry wasn't all convinced that the singer's throat didn't hurt. Harry knew he wasn't really sick and so he wasn't the cause of Louis's ailment, but he hated that there was nothing he could to do help anyway.

Though he knew it probably wouldn't make things any better for Louis, Harry decided to get him some ice cream in the hopes that it would numb his throat a little if it did hurt. Harry didn't tell anyone where he was going; just said that he would be right back and went off. Luckily, no one followed him. It wasn't that Harry minded their company, but with all of his internal panic, he didn't know how well he could hold up conversation at the moment and wanted a bit to just clear his head.

The walk, even if exhausting, did help to relax him somewhat, but that changed while ordering Louis's ice cream because of course the servers thought it was for him. They were polite, but Harry couldn't shake the thought that they were judging him, as he obviously did not need that ice cream and appeared to have no self control. Still, he was doing this for Louis so he tried not to feel too ashamed about it.

On his way back to his seat, Harry came across Louis and Alberto, walking his way, and his worry eased for just a moment as a small smile briefly lit his face, his heart fluttering, but in a good way. Louis simultaneously did the best and worst things to him.

“Tiny dancer!” Louis exclaimed, smiling as well. “I was looking for you.”

Louis's voice had faded even more from the last time Harry heard him and he nearly cringed listening to him because it just sounded so painful.

“This is for you,” Harry said once in front of Louis, holding out the bowl of ice cream. The singer's smile grew.

“How did you know that cookies and cream was my favorite?”

“You said it in an interview once,” Harry reminded him, blushing at the fact that he just gave himself away as a potentially creepy fan. Louis didn't seem bothered.

“Oh yeah. Well, thank you!”

He took a bite as they began walking the direction Harry had been going and then he asked,

“So what's your favorite flavor?”

Harry struggled not to cringe again, this time at the thought of actually forcing ice cream down his throat. He made himself think back to when he had allowed himself the sweet, and answered.

“Chocolate mint.”

“Ooh, that's good too. Anything with chocolate, really...”

Harry smiled, and Louis naturally returned it for only a moment before changing the subject.

“Actually, before we go back, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Shouldn't you be resting your voice?” Harry asked, his nerves growing again and suddenly not wanting to hear what Louis had to say at all.

“It's important,” Louis said, which didn't help Harry, but he agreed to talk to him. Taking his arm gently, Louis led him to stand by a wall and had Alberto block them the best that one man could.

“Um...so...I'm really, really sorry, Harry, but last night, someone got a picture of us kissing and put it on the internet.”

“That's okay,” Harry said, still nervous but mostly just sad because he was convinced then that he was right; people knew about what they nearly were and so now it had to end.

“I should have known that I can't just do that.”

“I should have realized it too. It's fine.”

Harry hated how weak his own voice suddenly sounded.

“But I'm the one with experience,” Louis said.

“You have experience kissing innocent regular people in bars?” Harry teased, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't really work for him personally, but Louis blushed.

“That's not what I meant,” he said.

“It's okay,” Harry said again. “I should be the one who's sorry.”

“Why would you be sorry?” Louis asked, frowning in confusion.

“You're the one that's going to have to deal with more rumors about a relationship.”

“I'm not worried about that,” Louis said, waving his hand. “I don't think I'll mind them as long a you're the rumored lover.”

Louis smiled a little again and then said,

“I should still be the one apologizing because now people are going to be trying to figure out who you are.”

Harry would be lying if he said the thought didn't scare him, but if he had Louis deny everything and make up a lie about who he was and what they were doing, then he might never see how far things could go with the other man. He was under no impression that Louis would ever fall in love with him, but he would take what he was given until the singer found someone better. No matter what he meant to Louis, he couldn't deny that Louis meant something to him, as more than just a celebrity now, and Harry wanted to keep him around for as long as he could.

“I have nothing to hide,” he said after a brief pause as he turned all of that over in his mind. Louis looked him up and down, his expression unreadable.

“There will be constant pictures. Okay, maybe not constant, but I'm sure it won't take long for people to realize it was you who I was kissing and then fans will be just as interested in you as they are me.”

This was it, Harry decided. Louis was trying to scare him away so that he wouldn't have to end things and worry about hurting him, but he still wanted whatever they were to be over.

Somehow, Harry held his posture.

“We can pretend last night didn't ever happen if you want to,” he offered, even though it hurt and he had to brace himself for Louis's next words.

“No!” Louis said, his eyes widening, and Harry was actually shocked. “That wasn't what I was trying to get at! I really like you, but I just want to make sure that you're going to be okay.”

Though Harry wanted to be happy at this response, and he was, he was also confused because it didn't make sense. Why in the world would Louis think he liked him?

Well, whatever. Harry was going to ignore that for now and let Louis believe what he wished until he realized different, even if that made Harry selfish.

“I'm going to be fine,” he said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

No matter what, Harry knew that he couldn't get any worse than a few years prior, and he'd survived that; _B_ _arely_ , a voice inside whispered.

Harry would be okay.

Without another word, Louis stood on his tiptoes and pulled Harry into a tight hug, which Harry returned, gentler. Louis smiled when he pulled away.

“Okay, I don't think the airport has chocolate mint ice cream, but you should probably eat something before we get on the plane because airport food is a tad bit better than airplane food and the longest part of the trip is yet to come,” he said. Harry internally groaned.

“I'm not really hungry,” he said nonchalantly. He was, actually, but he hadn't passed any 'safe' foods on his way to the ice cream shop and suddenly really just wanted to sit. He began walking back towards the chairs, and Louis and Alberto followed.

“Are you sure?” Louis asked.

“Yes, now please be quiet. You're supposed to be resting your voice.”

“You're just trying to get me to shut up, aren't you?”

“You know it,” Harry said, but tapped his hand against Louis's. He hadn't been expecting Louis to lace their fingers together after that, refraining from eating his ice cream and holding the bowl rather awkwardly just to do so, but harry wasn't going to complain about it.

“I liked last night's method of getting me quiet better,” he commented. Harry smiled, but didn't offer another reply.

“I'll stop talking in a minute,” Louis promised next, “but I do have another question first.”

“What is it?” Harry asked, his nerves growing yet again. He hated the _I have a question_ statement. He thought that was probably because that had been the last thing Gemma had said to him before asking about his eating disorder and everything fell apart.

“Well, first, it's really not like me to kiss before the first date and so I do still apologize for last night.”

“Technically, I kissed you,” Harry reminded him. Louis thought for a moment and then smiled.

“Oh yeah,” he said. “Well, I was going to ask you on a date, but in that case, I must request that you take me on a date and treat me like the gentleman I am...jeez.”

Relieved, Harry laughed, a bit too loudly, but he didn't care at the moment.

“Oh, I'm terribly sorry. Was I moving too fast for you?”

“Yeah, a bit, if I'm being honest,” Louis said.

“I'm so sorry.”

“That's okay. I just told you how you can make it up to me anyway.”

“Hm…I'll take you on a date on one condition,” Harry said, though knew he would take Louis on a date with no conditions at all.

“What's that?” Louis questioned.

“Shut up,” Harry told him. Louis laughed loudly then; even more loudly than Harry had, and he coughed, wincing as he did.

“My point exactly!” Harry exclaimed. Louis stuck out his tongue and Harry pretended to be offended.

“Whoa. I don't do that until the second date, thanks.”

Using sign language, Louis gave Harry a rather rude response, but Harry had to bite the insides of his cheeks so as not to smile.

“I know you just called me an ass hole,” he said, and Louis's mouth dropped open.“Yeah, I know sign language,” the dancer continued.

“Why didn't you tell me that on the way here?! We could have been chatting the entire time!”

“I didn't know that you knew it,” Harry said. “Believe it or not, I don't know everything about you.”

In fact, Harry had thought that he knew all about Louis that was available for the general public's knowledge, so perhaps this was a secret. Anyway, it was best to keep the singer humble.

Louis glared at Harry's response, and Harry glared right back. They kept the stares for a few seconds before Louis caved and giggled, telling Harry through sign language that he was cute. Using the same method, Harry told him that he was pretty cute himself, and Louis smiled. This wasn't like his other smiles, though. Harry hadn't seen this smile yet; the one that made Louis's eyes crinkle up and his nose scrunch. It felt like his heart literally melted looking at Louis like this, and he felt a moment's pride that he had been the one to cause this smile. For a couple of seconds, Harry liked himself just a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a couple of my friends made a lovely video/trailer for the Niam part of this fic. They seriously found the most perfect song for them and I was really excited :) If you are interested, you can watch the video [here](https://youtu.be/c1r1IzGnAv4) (I hope)
> 
> (A Larry one will come in due time)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Before we begin, I would like to say that this is Jamie's brother posting, as Jamie physically can't at the moment. (He's going to be fine!) I'm supposed to give you a few notes so let me do my best to relay them decently.
> 
> 1) There has been a new tag added! Jamie apologizes for not adding it before and we know some things can be triggering, so if you have any questions about the content, you can leave a comment and Jamie or I will get back with you ASAP :)
> 
> 2) About the video posted in the last chapter, it didn't work for everyone so Jamie apologizes for that. If you would like to see it, let him know and he can send it to you via email or any other way you can think of.
> 
> 3) This note is just from me, but I just wanted to put it out there that any and all mistakes are mine because I was in charge of the proof reading, but I suck at it, so I apologize in advance. Enjoy!

***Harry***

Harry felt really lucky that he was the one taking Louis on a date instead of it being the other way around because that meant he was the one in charge of deciding what they were going to do. That, of course, gave him a way to, hopefully, leave food completely out of the date. Dinner was the typical first date outing, but Harry was not a typical man.

Not too long after they arrived at their seats in the airport, Louis had fallen asleep and Harry took that as opportunity to do some research on his phone of what he could possibly take the other man to do in Sydney, Australia; where they were headed. In the end, he was down to two choices; either an observatory or an outdoor movie. He was hoping for the first idea, as the movies were full of popcorn, candy and soda, but he hadn't the faintest idea if Louis would like the observatory thing or not, and he was trying to somewhat impress the singer, the best he could.

Harry bit his lip while giving a small smile as he glanced over at his sleeping crush. He was excited over the fact that he was actually getting to go on a date with the man he'd idolized since his early teen years, but he was also nervous. He supposed that was normal.

From beside him, Liam let out a giggle and Harry quickly locked his phone, afraid that Liam had seen that he had been researching 'date ideas in Sydney, Australia,' but when he looked to the other, Liam wasn't looking at him. He had his body angled past Harry and was smiling at something on his phone. When he felt eyes on him, Liam looked to the side and smiled at Harry, straightening up his body as he held his phone out for him to see.

“Isn't he cute?” Liam cooed as Harry smiled down at the picture of Louis the other had taken. “I uploaded it to Twitter.”

“It's your own fault if you get fired,” Harry teased. Liam shrugged.

“Oh, you're visible from the side, a little bit. Sorry,” he said. Harry again looked at the picture and saw that he was, indeed, in the side of the frame, looking particularly awful after the flight. Everything in him wanted to beg Liam to take the picture down, but he supposed he was going to have to get used to being caught unknowingly on camera. He made a mental note to never look down at anything, though, as that angle gave him a double chin that he didn't think he had otherwise.

“It's fine,” Harry told him.

“Hello, boys,” Beatrice greeted as she approached, and they all said hi back before she rested a hand on Louis's shoulder and gently shook him. “Lou,” she said softly. The singer's nose scrunched up and he turned his head a bit, but he didn't wake. Harry smiled because, well, it was pretty freaking cute.

“Louis,” Beatrice said, more sternly, as she shook him a bit rougher. The singer groaned, his voice cracking, and coughing, as he blinked open his eyes, looking confusedly between her and Harry, and then at their surroundings.

“Holy shit, I thought I was back in the hotel,” he muttered. Harry smiled again as Beatrice shushed him softly.

“We have twenty minutes until we board,” the tour manager told him. “If you wanted to pick up anything or use the loo, you need to do it now.”

“Yeah, I need to wee,” he said, standing along with Liam, Niall and Zayn who appeared to have thought the same thing. Louis laughed a little. “This will be quite the bonding experience,” he said.

“Want to join, Harry?” Liam asked with a devious twinkle in his eye, and Harry looked down his nose at the man.

“I'm fine,” he said, and then wondered when the last time he actually had gone to the bathroom was; that morning in the hotel, he thought, which had been quite a while ago. He must have been dehydrated. It was easy for him to get that way while dieting. “I'm just going to get water.”

Harry's legs ached as he stood, but it was the sudden dizziness that sent him lurching forward a bit; his hand wrapping around the arm rest of the seat to prevent himself from falling down. He hoped it hadn't been obvious, because he had recovered fairly quickly, he thought, but when he blinked his eyes back into full focus, the others were staring at him. Heat rising to his face, Harry gave the group a small smile and slowly let go of the arm rest. He swayed, just a bit, but that appeared to be noticeable too because in the next moment, Louis was forcing him down to his seat.

“Okay, you're staying right there,” he announced. “I'll go get you some water.”

“I'm okay,” Harry insisted. “I just stood too fast.”

“Sit.”

Harry was already sitting, but he didn't point that out.

“Are you alright, Harry?” Beatrice asked, looking worried herself, and Harry saw her glance over to where the doctor was sitting not too far away. A rush of panic flooded through him.

“I'm fine,” he assured her. “I promise.”

“I'll be right back,” Louis said before turning on his heel and walking away. The three other men stared at him for another couple of moments before announcing that they would return soon too and walked away, Liam glancing over his shoulder at Harry once as he headed towards the bathroom. Beatrice stayed, studying Harry, and Louis was right; she looked just like a mom. Harry gave her the smile he always gave his own mom when she was giving him those looks and put his hands in between his thighs so that she wouldn't see that they were shaking. Still, Beatrice didn't move, even when Louis returned with some water and a pack of peanuts. Harry thanked him, downed half the bottle of water and ate the peanuts with barely a second thought, knowing it would be far less of an adorable story if he fainted on the plane than when Louis had.

Only after he had ingested a good amount of the food and drink did Louis sit and Beatrice snapped out of her trance.

“Did you already use the bathroom?” she asked the singer.

“I'm going to wait,” he said.

“You should go or you'll be holding it a while,” Harry pointed out, feeling guilty suddenly, for he had assumed Louis had used the bathroom before getting him his things.

“I don't really have to go,” Louis said, his voice fading towards the end of the sentence and Harry fought cringing again.

“Alright, sh,” he said soothingly. He didn't know why, but Louis looked sad and he wanted to make it go away. Before he could even fathom how to do that, Beatrice verified one more time that he was alright before walking away and, once she was out of earshot, Louis sighed and leaned forward to press his forehead against Harry's. Harry's food was gone, so he folded the wrapper up in his hands and shoved it into his jeans pocket, taking in Louis's closed eyes and long eyelashes. He'd known before that they were long, but not that long. They were mesmerizing. Harry could stare at them for quite a time, but then Louis let out a sigh and Harry remembered the sad look he'd had in his eyes before he shut them.

“Are you okay?” the dancer asked.

“Mhm,” Louis hummed, his eyes still closed.

“Are you sure?” Harry said. “Because you don't look like it.”

“Gee, thanks,” Louis said teasingly as he opened his eyes and gave a half-lit smile. He didn't move his forehead from the other man's yet.

“That's not what I meant,” Harry told him. “I just meant that you look a bit down.”

“I'm tired,” Louis said after a brief pause. Or maybe Harry had imagined the pause; he couldn't be sure.

“Go back to sleep,” he said. “I'll wake you up when it's time to board.”

Pulling away from Harry, Louis shook his head.

“So do you know what we're going to do on our date yet?” he asked, his voice cheerier at the change of subject.

“Well, we could do an outdoor movie, or, um, I thought about...And you might think this is a dumb idea, but I thought we could go to an observatory.”

Louis straightened his body, his eyes widening.

“I don't think that's a dumb idea at all!” he said. Harry gave him a small smile.

“Well, if we can squeeze it in, that's fine, if that's what you want to do.”

“We'll figure something out.”

Before standing to get on the plane, Louis checked again to make sure that Harry felt okay. Harry assured him that he was fine. He didn't tell him that the peanuts had whet his appetite, making him hungrier, but that wasn't important anyway. It had leveled out his blood sugar for now, which was what he'd needed. He could deal with the hunger.

The pair were quiet as they took their seats on the plane and even as they took off, but only a couple minutes into the flight, Louis turned his body to Harry, using sign language to start a conversation.

“When did you learn sign language? And what made you decide to do it?”

Harry hesitated before answering, which Louis might have found strange, but that was a period of time that the dancer didn't like to remember. Even though he appreciated the fact that he'd learned the language, he didn't like the circumstances surrounding his desire to learn. Still, it wasn't like he could tell Louis that he didn't want to talk about it. It had been a harmless question.

“I started to teach myself when I was eleven,” he explained, using sign language as well.“I had been in a pretty bad car accident and was injured, so I couldn't dance for a year.”

Harry could stop the story there, he knew, but now that he'd started, he decided he might as well go on. Louis was frowning, but he looked interested all the same, so Harry assumed he had a few more questions and it was best to explain as much as he was comfortable saying rather than dance around questions the other asked.

“Dance was all I knew and I needed something to entertain me and distract me from the fact that I thought my dream of being a professional dancer was over.”

Harry left out how he'd also needed a distraction from how much weight he'd been gaining from not exercising and eating through his emotions. He also didn't mention that the accident had given him mild control problems because, as a dancer, Harry had learned how to move and contort his body into virtually any position he wanted at any pace. He had gained dominance over his movements, but he couldn't control the healing process. He didn't say that he started eating less and less until he was barely eating anything just to prove to himself that he still had control over something.

“My parents signed me up for classes once they found out that I had been trying to learn,” Harry said, but didn't say that the only reason he didn't quit was because he refused to fail at something else. He kept quiet on the fact that he felt like a failure still anyway because, once he was able to go back to dancing, it wasn't the same. His break had thrown him off and put him behind everyone else. He'd honestly thought he was a pretty good dancer beforehand, but, even with all those years of experience, it had taken only one year to take him off track, and he'd never quite caught back up.

“It's awesome that you put your dedication into something else during that, but I'm happy that you healed alright and got back to dancing,” Louis said. Harry smiled the best he could at the moment, with all of those thoughts and memories in the surface of his mind, and thanked him. Then he turned the man's original question back around on him.

“My mum dated a deaf man for a few years when I was small,” Louis told him. “He taught both of us.”

“Your mum's boyfriend taught you 'ass hole?'” Harry asked, eyebrows quirked, and Louis laughed and shook his head.

“No. My mum taught me that one when she was 'yelling' at his back as he left.”

Louis's face was bright, trying to turn the whole thing into a joke, but Harry had seen a flash of pain cross his face, however so quickly. He probably wouldn't have noticed it at all, but he had experience because that was the very same expression he felt on his own face multiple times a day.

It was common knowledge that Louis's biological dad had left him and his mom and cut off contact from both of them when Louis was still pretty young. He'd even had a song about it on his first album. His second album had a song detailing when his father tried to come back into his life after Louis had found fame, and then the man had tried to steal his money. Luckily, he'd been unsuccessful.

There was no song openly dedicated to his father on his latest album, but there was one about learning to love yourself because you can't rely on someone else doing it, and Harry got the vibe that it was highly inspired from his experience with the man. Some people thought that song was a happy, positive song, but Harry never got that vibe. It had been his 'go-to' song during his sadder moments recently, in fact; though he had yet to learn to love himself as Louis claimed to have in the song. Harry hoped he really had.

From the seat next to him, Louis tilted his head to the side and Harry realized that he had yet to reply to his latest confession.

Trying to stick with the joking mood that Louis was attempting to set off, Harry gave the singer a comforting smile and signed, “I can appreciate that, but that guy sounds like more of an ass hole than me, if I'm being honest.”

Louis beamed, but he didn't have a response to that, and he turned slowly to face the window as he let the conversation die. Harry didn't mind and leaned against Louis's shoulder, trying to show him that he was there if he needed him as he drifted off to sleep.

***Liam***

When Liam woke in Niall's bed, his first instinct was to panic, and that he did. Before last night he'd only ever slept in someone else's bed when he passed out drunk. Hell, he'd even told Niall that it was okay that they were sharing a bed for nothing more than cuddling and sleeping. What the fuck was wrong with him? He knew he had been desperate for attention after not having any action the past couple of nights, but that was not the kind of attention he needed. He absolutely did not need to be cuddled and told what a good person he was. For one, nobody ever desired to touch him gently, so he felt it was only a matter of time before the cuddling turned into something else, and, more importantly, he wasn't a good person. He used men for the one and only thing he wanted and then he left them. Usually, it ended up being okay because they just wanted to take that thing from him and have him gone afterward, but Niall wasn't like that and Liam knew it.

Niall needed and deserved someone who would take him on dates and give him innocent kisses good night; someone who would snuggle with him under the stars or whatever romantic people did. He deserved better than Liam, that was for sure.

Swallowing hard as a tiny whine escaped his throat, Liam quickly snaked himself out from underneath Niall's arm and hurried to his own bed. He was dizzy and his head hurt, and he wasn't nauseous, but he was shaking. From where he lay, he saw the not-yet empty wine bottle still sitting on the nightstand where Niall had set it the previous night and hoisted himself back up to grab it and drink some more. He felt better physically as soon as he'd taken the first swig, but emotionally, he felt terrible. He didn't day drink, except for special occasions. Otherwise, he kept the drinking for evenings and nights. Drinking first thing in the morning was too much like…

_“_ _You're just like your mother_ , _Liam_ ,” Liam remembered Geoff telling him. 

The nausea hit him suddenly and Liam hurried to the bathroom, not even realizing he was still holding the wine bottle until he'd reached the sink. Crying out quietly, Liam turned on the  water  and dumped the rest of the bottle, coughing and gagging at the smell  that typically made him feel high.

Niall arrived in the bathroom before all of the alcohol had even finished swirling down the drain.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently, resting his hand lightly on Liam's back and, once Liam was done nearly throwing up, he turned off the water and smiled shakily at the other man.

“Fine,” he said. Niall didn't look convinced and rubbed a few circles into the small of Liam's back.

“Come on, let's go get some food in your system. It will help.”

Liam was a little hungover, but he knew that wasn't his main problem. However, he didn't mention that to Niall and instead followed him down to the lobby to get breakfast.

After gathering their plates, the two sat at a table to eat together quietly. Liam chewed slowly, still feeling a little sick and not very hungry at all. He knew he had to eat a little though, so he did, absently, too distracted by looking at Niall. The smaller dancer didn't seem to notice; just kept eating in peace, but Liam noticed him. For the first time, he tried to take a moment and really think about how he felt about the other man. He was really cute, which Liam had noticed the first time he'd seen him, of course. You couldn't not notice that he was extremely attractive, Liam thought, but Niall was also nice and caring and smart and talented and perfect and, damn it, Liam liked him. He actually, truly liked him.

The previous night, Liam had honestly been a little relieved that Niall didn't have sex with him. It wasn't that he didn't  want  to have sex with the guy, of course, but he didn't want just a one night stand with him that would result in the two never talking again. Liam liked their friendship and wished that they could be friends while kissing and doing other things, but they couldn't. Liam had never done the 'friends with benefits' thing. One either had to be his friend or his fuck buddy. 

Of course, Niall would never do the 'friends with benefits' route either, Liam knew, but even if he would, Liam couldn't. The end result would be Liam falling for Niall even more  and, though Liam didn't want to tell Niall this and ruin his adorably optimistic vision, happily ever afters didn't happen. Well, maybe they did, but only for the most special of people. His aunt and uncle might get a happy ending, Liam thought, and Niall was special enough to get his too, but Liam wasn't his happy ending, or his happy anything. Liam was quite the opposite of 'special.' Born to his drunken mother and his violent father, Liam was doomed from conception and no matter how great of a person Niall was, he couldn't save Liam from that.

“Are you okay?”

At the familiar and adored Irish accent, Liam jolted, looking down to his plate and taking a bite as he answered,

“Yeah. Why?”

“You looked either like you were upset or going to be sick,” Niall commented, but when Liam looked up again, he saw that he was smiling. For some reason, that seemed to be like a stab straight in Liam's heart.

“No, I'm fine,” he said anyway.

“Is it over what we talked about last night?” Niall asked, suddenly not smiling anymore. He looked worried, and that hurt even worse.

“It's just...we're still friends, right?” Liam asked.

“Of course,” Niall said with no hesitation.

“Good,” Liam said, and wasn't sure why he didn't feel that much better. That had been what he'd wanted to hear.

“I hope I didn't upset you last night,” Niall continued. “I just care about you and I meant what I said, but I'm not going to push anything. I'll be what you want me to be, Liam; nothing more and nothing less.”

_No_ , Liam screamed silently as he rubbed his hands over his face.  _You need to be what you want to be, and if I can't_ _help_ _give you that,_ _you need to_ _run._

But Liam was selfish, so instead of saying that, he said,

“Okay, let's change the subject, yeah?”

Niall still looked worried, but he didn't say anything, so the two finished eating in silence.

  


The two were sat next to each other on the plane ride, and at first Liam was afraid that it was going to be awkward still, but it wasn't. They played games on Niall's phone and when they got bored of that, Niall used the shaky wifi on the plane to look up jokes and read them aloud. Liam probably laughed too hard at all of them, but Niall was so animated telling them and sometimes would laugh in the middle, right at the punch line; his face turning red as he gasped for breath and attempted multiple times to continue. Liam couldn't remember ever laughing to the point where his stomach hurt, and eventually, he made Niall stop so that he wouldn't a) throw up or b) get them yelled at. 

Luckily, they landed for the layover not too long after that and when they boarded the plane again nearly an hour late r , Niall got out a book and asked Liam if he wanted to read it with him.

“Is it some Nicholas Sparks love shit?” Liam teased with a wink. Niall laughed.

“No,” he said. “It's a murder mystery.”

“Ooh, there's a dark side to you?!” Liam asked. Niall just smiled.

Reading together turned out to be too difficult so the two decided to each read a chapter and then pass the book back, after, of course, discussing what they had both read. Liam wasn't really a reader, but he was still having a great time.

Occasionally, while Niall had the book, Liam would look over to Harry, making sure he was okay. He knew that Louis had taken him food that morning, but he wondered if he had somehow managed to avoid it or purge afterward because Harry could try to play it off as no big deal, but when he stood from his chair at the airport, his face had gone ghostly pale and for a moment Liam had been sure he was going to lose it. If only Liam knew how he sneaked around eating or threw up in secret, it would be a lot easier to help him, he thought.

For the time being, though, Harry seemed to be fine. He was sitting up straight and signing with Louis; the two involved in what appeared to be a pretty intense, but pleasant enough, conversation. Liam was glad, though was taken aback by the fact that Harry knew sign language. That had been something the man had never told him before. Of course, it seemed that Harry didn't tell Liam a lot.

Harry's friendship had been something that Liam had never had to question. Harry was such a genuine guy that Liam felt that he had actually cared about Liam and maybe even sometimes enjoyed his presence. Even if  it didn't always seem like it, Liam cared about Harry and loved spending time with him, but suddenly, he felt that the feeling wasn't mutual. Harry knew almost everything about him. Okay, so he didn't know about his parents, but they weren't even in his life, so they didn't count. Harry knew everything else, but Liam knew nothing about him. Harry didn't want to tell Liam anything about himself, and could they really be considered friends if that was the case? He was such  a  nice person that he probably wouldn't say anything if he didn't want Liam around. 

Liam had thought getting close to Harry was safe, but now he felt as if he were wrong. A lump formed in his throat and, quite alarmingly, tears poked at Liam's eyeballs, sending a rush of panic through him for the second time that day.

_You don't cry, Liam, you don't cry, you don't cry._

Luckily, Liam had gotten a water soon after re-boarding the plane and gulped it down until his throat felt clear and his eyes were dry. It was only after he smacked his lips together and put his water bottle back in the holder that he realized Niall was staring at him,  his  forehead creased. Liam tried to smile, but he knew it fell flat.

“Are you okay?” Niall asked.

“Yeah,” Liam answered, his voice thick. He coughed to clear it.

“Okay...”

He sounded unsure, but Liam didn't give him a chance to press the subject.

“I'm going to take a nap,” he announced. “Fill me in on the book when I wake up, okay?”

Niall nodded, still giving Liam that same look, but Liam simply turned to the window and rested his head back against the seat, closing his eyes. He thought he felt Niall's gaze linger, but he didn't look, wanting to feign sleep when he knew he wouldn't get any real sleep at all. It was kind of hard to rest when his nails were digging painfully into his thighs, but he didn't stop. It would be a while before a flight assistant came back and he could get alcohol-and fuck if he was like his mom or not-and he couldn't run for miles and miles until his lungs wanted to collapse, so the physical pain was the only thing distracting Liam from whatever chaos was going on in his mind.

He dug his nails deeper until he bit his tongue and  then  jolted. Niall, assuming, probably, that he had a nightmare, patted Liam's knee, unable to see the way he was scratching at his other leg. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be up next weekend and should be posted by Jamie again. If you'd like to leave a comment, please feel free to do so. Jamie will reply as soon as he can :)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I missed you all :) I hope my brother didn't screw anything up too bad last week ;)
> 
> This chapter is all from Larry's POV, but I'm not neglecting Niam! The next chapter will be all them, and I'm going to post it much earlier than next weekend. My goal is by Tuesday, but we'll see how that works out. I tried to squeeze them all into one chapter, but there is serious ground I need to cover with both of them and I didn't want a single part to be a novel when this whole fic seems as if it's going to be massive. (Sorry about that...)

***Louis***

Louis ended up falling asleep there on the plane with Harry's head rested on his shoulder. He wasn't out long and, upon waking, tried to stay awake either until Harry fell asleep or they landed, not wanting to bore the other man. It was a hopeless goal, however, and when he started drifting off for the third time, he just had to accept the fact that it was going to be for a while. He remembered his last words before he fell asleep; telling Harry to get some rest, but whether he did or not was uncertain then.

When Louis came back to, he quickly discovered it was due to the fact that someone was using their thumb to gently stroke his cheek. It ended up being Harry, Louis saw when he tiredly turned his head, and his heart did a happy little thump.

“Sorry,” he mumbled with a smile as he forced himself to sit straight. “Was I snoring or talking?”

“No,” Harry told him, offering a small smile himself. “We're about to land.”

“Oh,” Louis said, rubbing his eyes and blinking hard a few times to fully clear his vision. “I was out for a while then. Sorry.”

“It's okay,” Harry assured him. “I was asleep most of the time too. How is your throat?”

“It feels better,” Louis said, and it did. It was a little sore still, though he thought just from being dry. It wasn't nearly as bad as before.

“You sound better,” Harry told him, “which is kind of sad since you just woke up and all.”

“Told you I was fine.”

“Maybe, but still be quiet until the doctor looks at you.”

“You just really don't want to talk to me, do you?”

Harry smiled, recognizing that Louis was joking. Louis was glad he wasn't so afraid to offend him anymore.

“I don't really have much choice now that you know I know sign language,” the dancer said.

“It's easy enough for you to turn and pretend I'm not talking to you with that though.”

“I wouldn't do that.”

Feeling something on his knee, Louis looked down to see the thumb that Harry had been using to stroke Louis's cheek was now stroking his knee. Harry glanced down and perhaps just realized what he was doing because he stopped immediately, folding his hands on his lap.

“Sorry,” he said.

“You kissed me, but you can't touch my knee?” Louis teased. Harry's mouth twitched upward.

“I mean, I don't want to keep moving too fast for the princess.”

Beaming-Louis absolutely loved it when Harry fired back to his snarky remarks-the singer simply winked, letting him win this one. He really had no choice, as the pilot came on over the intercom and began giving the final landing instructions.

  


The regular group of five all rode together to the hotel they were to be staying at and, of course, as they had just gotten off a seriously long plane ride, instructed the driver to stop and get them fast food.

“Write down your orders,” Louis's very patient driver said, passing back a notepad and pen. They all took turns putting in their requests, except for Harry who insisted that he had eaten a sandwich on the plane while Louis had been asleep. Louis wasn't sure he believed him or not, no matter how badly he wanted to, but he didn't press the matter. He didn't know how, but even if he had, he wouldn't do that in front of their friends. The last thing he wanted was for Harry to feel embarrassed or ashamed over any of this.

While they ate, they talked; loudly and quickly, all stumbling over each other and probably driving the poor chauffeur crazy. All of them were wired from the plane ride, besides, it seemed Liam. Louis hadn't even noticed that the other hadn't said a single word until Harry asked if he was okay and Louis glanced over to find his dancer just staring out the window. Still, he didn't talk; only nodded.

“Do you get air sick?” Louis asked. It was a surprisingly common occurrence around tour, but Liam shook his head no. Everyone fell silent and then noticed a banging noise, which they soon discovered to be from Liam hitting his wrists against the door handle. Louis heard Niall gasp a little at the discovery and the blonde quickly put his hands over top of Liam's. After a moment, he lowered them; one to his lap and the other to the seat beside him. Completely seriously, Louis wondered if he should hire a psychologist to tour with them, at least for a bit. Hell, he'd needed one during his first tour both to keep him grounded and to help him get used to the mental effects of almost constant jet lag. He made a mental note to talk to Beatrice about it soon.

Once they had finally arrived at the hotel-Harry, of course, had come directly to Louis's room-the dancer went to wash up while the singer collapsed onto his bed. He didn't know how, as he'd just slept roughly eleven hours on the plane, but he was tired and felt himself drifting off again. To be fair, it was only about four in the morning where they'd just come from, but still…

Fortunately, he remained conscious enough to feel the bed dip down once Harry sat on it, and he forced his eyes open, smiling at the other. Harry returned it, though his looked very sleepy.

“Are you going to take a nap?” Louis asked, thinking of how wonderful napping together sounded at the moment.

“Maybe,” Harry said, his eyes falling shut but then opening again quickly.

“Go ahead,” Louis told him, scooting a bit closer. Harry let out a big yawn, but shook his head, widening his eyes as he smiled and changed the subject.

“Did you check your poll to see which song won for the single?”

“No. I completely forgot.”

Dean must have been really excited about this Harry thing, Louis thought, as he hadn't even pressed him for the answer yet.

Reaching behind him, Louis felt around the mattress until he felt his phone and then got onto Twitter, blinking his eyes into focus. He couldn't recall if the beginning of his last tour had been this draining, though figured it must have been. Oh well. His body would adjust soon.

“'Summer Song' won by four percent,” Louis announced, only disappointed for the fact that it wasn't Harry's favorite.

“So close.”

“I figured that one would win,” the singer said and then, teasingly, “No one cares about my serious shit.”

“That's not true,” Harry told him. “I care. Besides, the numbers are so close. It's too bad you can't release them both.”

“Hmm,” Louis hummed, wondering if it would be at all possible to do just that, but he didn't have time to contemplate long before his phone began to buzz.

“Dean,” he sighed upon checking the ID. Then, he rejected the call.

“I'm going to let you sleep,” he said to Harry, “but first, Dean wants to know. if he can tell the media who you are.”

Harry's eyes had, again, fallen partly shut, but they opened wide at the remark.

“Or we can keep them guessing for a while,” Louis added quickly. “It's completely up to you.”

For only a couple of seconds, the dancer chewed on his lips, his eyes far away as he thought, but then he looked back to Louis and put on a small grin.

“No, he can tell. It's fine.”

“Are you sure?”

A pause, and then Harry nodded.

“People will find out soon anyway,” he said.

“Maybe,” Louis agreed, “but are you positive that you're okay with Dean going to the press with it now?”

Again, Harry nodded.

“I'm sorry you have to make these decisions,” Louis said, and he really did feel so bad about it.

“We talked about this already,” Harry pointed out. “It's okay.”

Louis leaned forward, giving Harry a kiss on the nose, though his eyes lingered on the dancer's lips as he pulled away.

“God, we need to go on that date so I can kiss your lips again,” he said, which earned him a dimpled smile.

“Well, when can you fit it in?”

“Don't word it like that, please,” Louis asked. “It makes it sound like the date is an afterthought and not a priority.”

“Sorry.”

“You don't have anything to apologize for. I just want to make sure that you don't feel that way.”

Harry shook his head, which could mean that he was lying, but he didn't seem bothered regardless, so Louis decided to not make an annoyance of himself by pressing it. Instead, he had planned to keep his lips busy by kissing Harry but remembered at the last minute that, oh yeah, he couldn't. Wasn't that the whole point of this conversation anyway?

“Damn it,” Louis breathed, just inches away from Harry's lips, and the dancer actually giggled.

“We can pretend that the bar was our first date so that we can kiss if you want,” he allowed, and Louis tried to hide just how much that suggestion appalled him. He was quickly distracted from his disgust by the very hot way that Harry was (probably unpurposefully) pursing his lips anyway. Louis internally groaned, but out loud, said,

“Your ex definitely wouldn't have been present at our first date.”

“Well, we can always kiss anyway,” Harry allowed.

“No,” Louis sighed, no matter how tempting the thought was. “I'm not breaking my rule again.”

“Is there a reason that you have that rule?” Harry questioned.

“It helps me determine the real from the fake. I never kiss my press relationships.”

“That's sweet,” Harry said, and Louis at first thought he was poking fun at him, but then realized that he was completely serious. Either way, Louis felt his cheeks go pink.

“I have to call Dean,” he said after a few moments where the two were just looking at each other, studying every small detail of the other's face. Well, that was what Louis was doing anyway, and he guessed that Harry was doing something along the same lines because he hadn't even noticed the intensity with which Louis was looking at him. If he had, Louis knew he would have turned pink himself before hiding his face.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I'll stop distracting you.”

“I like being distracted by you,” Louis said, winking as he sat up and ran a hand through his hair, coughing a couple of times.

“Make it quick. You still need to rest your voice,” Harry said, not moving from the pillow.

“I'll hurry back, but just so I can see your face again.”

Harry snorted.

“There you go writing songs again.”

Louis smiled.

“I'll be back,” he said as he got to his feet. He was ashamed by how weak they felt. He must be getting old.

“I'll be here,” Harry said.

“I hope so. One last time, are you sure about this?”

“I'm sure.”

There hadn't even been a hesitation that time.

“Go call Dean,” Harry said. Louis obeyed, taking his phone out onto the back patio. He supposed he should be excited about all of this and, really, he was. This thing with Harry was the closest thing he'd gotten to a relationship in so long and, well, it was with _Harry_ , whom he'd fancied since basically the first time he saw him. He remembered asking Harry's dance instructor after class who the man who had run out had been and what his story was. She hadn't exactly known what Louis meant by 'his story,' but she had told him that his name was Harry and that he was one of the most talented students she'd taught in her years. Louis could have figured that out by himself. 

Louis supposed the reason he was so nervous was because he did like Harry so much and usually that led to heartbreak. More so, though, he was worried about Harry. He hoped their relationship, if that was what it could be called, would be good for him. Louis knew that Harry's eating disorder didn't define him, but he was so afraid of doing something that would make it worse. He really had no reason to believe that Harry wasn't better. Well, the fainting thing was really worrisome, but he knew he'd eaten breakfast that morning and if he had thrown it up, it wouldn't have been until they were on the plane a couple hours later. By that point, Louis thought it would have been pointless. That day had been the third time he'd nearly fainted, though, which, of course, wasn't normal. Maybe he would have the doctor check Harry out and figure out what was going on. 

As he stood outside, staring over the balcony with his phone in hand, contemplating all of this, the mobile went off again, alerting him that it was Dean making another attempt at contacting him. Dean was so impatient, but with a roll of his eyes, Louis answered.

***Harry***

Harry began drifting off almost as soon as he heard the patio door shut, but right before he slipped over the brink of sleep, he realized that he hadn't checked his phone once during the plane ride, nor had he let his family know that he had made it to Australia safely.

Surprisingly, when he dug his phone out from his bag, he only had three missed calls from his sister and one from his mom. They had left voice mails as well, but Harry decided to save himself the pain of listening to them freaking out over his silence and just call them. He chose to dial his mom's number, as he was less likely to get yelled at by her than by Gemma.

“Finally!” a shrill voice answered the other line, and it wasn't his mom after all. Harry sighed, but before he could tell his sister to relax, she said, “What took you so long?! Did you get lost up Louis's arse?!”

“Gemma!” Anne hissed from the background, hinting that Gemma had literally ripped the phone from her hands when she saw that it was Harry who was calling. He should have known.

“What the fuck, Gem?” Harry asked, his eyes darting to the patio, where he could see Louis leaning lightly over the balcony, still on the phone. He of course didn't say this, but with the way the singer was leaning...well...Harry wouldn't mind getting lost up his arse, maybe.

“I saw the picture of you two all tongue-tied with each other!” Gemma said.

“There was no tongue.”

Gemma ignored that true statement.

“Thanks for letting us know that you have a famous pop star boyfriend!”

“He's not my boyfriend.”

“Well, you're not just being one of his hussies, are you? I know you're in love with him, Harry, but you need to respect yourself more than that.”

“It was only a kiss.”

After a very brief pause; brief enough so that she couldn't say anything back, Harry said,

“And we are also supposed to go on a date before leaving Sydney, but-”

“What?!”

The pitch of Gemma's voice actually hurt Harry's ears, and he winced, though was smiling as well.

“Yeah, even if it doesn't happen, it was totally worth it for that reaction.”

“If he told you that you were going on a date, then you better fucking go on a date or I will personally set fire to his tour bus.”

“Um, okay, psycho; calm down.”

“What are you talking about?” Harry heard Anne ask her daughter. Gemma told her and then Anne gasped loud enough for Harry to hear from the other line.

“Let me talk to him,” the mother demanded. There was the sound of shuffling and then her voice was in Harry's ear. “Hello?”

“Hi, mum.”

“ You have a date with Louis?!”

“We're supposed to go to an observatory if we have time.”

“Oh, Harry, that sounds lovely, but...You do know what you're getting yourself into, yes?”

“Yeah. Louis's warned me all about it.”

“Is all this attention going to be good for you?”

“ I really like him,” Harry replied, which he realized was really not answering the question at all.

“I know you do, sweet heart, but is it worth all that it comes with?”

“Yes.”

Harry hadn't even had to hesitate. Though he  had been  leery before, he knew without a doubt that it was definitely worth it. Even if the media tore him apart and even if he and Louis ended...No matter how insecure Harry felt around Louis sometimes, he also felt true happiness when he was around and, for some reason, Louis seemed to really enjoy his company too. Harry may not be what Louis was expecting him to be, but he hoped that he could make Louis feel good until he realized that.  Harry wanted to show Louis that there were people who liked him for him and who wouldn't leave; not until Louis wanted them to.

“I just worry about you,” Anne spoke, bringing Harry back to their conversation.

“I know you do, but I'm fine,” Harry told her.

“I'm so proud of you.”

Harry bit his lip, guilt welling up inside of him. He faked a yawn, which quickly turned into a real one.

“Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I got in safely. I'm going to take a nap, I think.”

“Okay, baby,” Anne said softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They said their goodbyes-and Gemma too-and then Harry ended the call, closing his eyes before he'd even let his phone drop back down to the bed. He was still tired, but he knew that now he wouldn't be able to sleep. He felt too sick.

Though he knew Louis hadn't believed him, Harry had eaten some of a sandwich on the plane ride while the singer had been resting, but he'd gotten full fast. That had been a while ago, but Harry suddenly felt as if he needed to throw up what he could of it.

His mother had nothing at all to be proud of.

A loud noise as the door opened made Harry jump and open his eyes. In stepped Louis, rubbing his arm.

“Ouch,” he said under his breath, and then smiled when he realized that Harry was looking at him. “The door hit me.”

Harry laughed as much as he could.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. I won the fight, believe it or not.”

“Oh, I believe you, don't worry. The door looks wounded and absolutely humiliated.”

Louis looked at the door, smirking as though it really had been his victim, and Harry couldn't help but to laugh again.  As he turned his gaze to the dancer, Louis's smirk turned into one of his crinkly-eyed grins. It didn't last long, but Harry had still seen it and got that warm feeling as he had the first time. Once it faded, Louis looked Harry up and down, and then sighed dramatically.

“God, why are you so hot?” he asked. Harry didn't have a good response for that, so he said nothing, but Louis didn't appear to expect an answer anyway, and he gathered fresh clothes before heading for the shower.

As soon as the door clicked, Harry began to panic, aware that he couldn't get into the bathroom. He hadn't heard Louis lock it, so he figured that he could, if absolutely necessary, but he couldn't do what he needed to do in the bathroom with Louis right there in the shower next to the toilet.

His sick feeling grew, and it was only then that he realized it had been absent while he'd been talking with Louis. That gave further proof to what he had already known; that his illness was psychological. Harry was ashamed.  He was such a psychotic mess. Why did anyone want to be around him?

Forcing himself off the bed, Harry walked the few feet to the full-length mirror, straightened both his clothes and his posture and looked at his reflection. He tried to see what Louis thought was 'so hot' about him. He couldn't, but for the first time in a while, he wasn't completely disgusted at what he saw. Of course, there were still his problem areas, such as his stomach and arms, but his cheekbones actually were looking better. They were much more prominent than they'd been before. He wondered if that was what attracted Louis to him; his prominent cheekbones…

_Bones, bones, bones…_

Though Harry's bicep area was much too flabby for his liking, when he pulled down his shirt, he saw popping collar bones, and when he turned around and lifted his shirt, he could  faintly  count his ribs from the back. Pulling his shirt tight a round his middle , Harry noted that his stomach, while far from perfect and not completely flat, had still shrunk a lot from just last week.

_That's not healthy, Harry; that's not normal. You aren't supposed to look like this. Why do you have to be starving to look even halfway decent?_

_Starving, starving, starving…_

Harry was starving.  He may not be able to feel that he was starving, as he rarely felt hungry anymore,  but  that was just further proof that his stomach was shrinking. Next, his body would probably start eating itself again. His hair would turn dull, his eye color would fade…

Would Louis still think he was 'hot' then?

Tears pricked at Harry's eyes and he pressed his fists hard against them, taking deep breaths until he felt in control of himself.

He wondered if he had time to find the fitness center before Louis got out of the shower. He needed to weigh himself and see if he was below his goal weight yet. If he was, then he could eat like a typical human and pretend to be normal for a little while. He could pretend that his mind wasn't screaming at him for every bite he took. Maybe he could even enjoy it sometimes.

Deciding that he had to find the fitness center and that he would come up with an excuse later if need be, Harry hurried from Louis's hotel room. It was only as he heard the door click shut behind him that it dawned on him that he didn't have a way back in. Oh well. Better work on that excuse on the way back up, after he got over the anxiety of finding out what he weighed. He just had to know.

Luckily, the room number to the fitness room was listed inside of the elevator and Harry pressed the correct button. When he exited the lift, he walked briskly to the door he wanted and pushed it open, and then stopped dead in his tracks because Liam was there, running on the treadmill like he was running from something; drenched in sweat. For a moment Harry was impressed, but then he realized that something wasn't quite right. Liam's eyes were red, and not the type of red they got from being under the influence.  He didn't even notice when Harry entered, which wasn't that strange, especially since he had ear phones in, but he remained oblivious even as Harry stood next to him, close enough to see that he had been running on the treadmill for close to an hour, even though they had barely been at the hotel sixty minutes.

Feeling guilty that he had forgotten, Harry suddenly remembered Liam's strange silence on the ride to the hotel-and the even stranger way that he had been beating his wrists against the door handle without even flinching. He frowned, his worry growing deep.

Harry realized as he did this that it wasn't the brightest idea he'd ever had, but he tapped Liam on the shoulder to gain his attention, causing the runner to gasp and nearly fall off the treadmill. Luckily, Liam pulled the emergency key and stopped the machine before he did.

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry!” Harry said, his eyes wide with terror. Though Liam had steadied himself, Harry had a hold of his arm and had yet to let go.

“It's alright,” Liam assured him, his breathing surprisingly normal for how hard he had been running, but he gave a tired half-smile. It almost looked painful. “What are you doing here?”

Harry nearly told him, but stopped himself in the nick of time. His intentions were good, he thought, but he knew it would sound bad if he told the only friend who knew of his eating disorder that he had ventured down to the fitness center simply to weigh himself.

“How long have you been here?” Harry asked.

“Way to answer a question with another question,” Liam commented. Harry smiled a little bit, nervously, but was serious as he said,

“You've been acting strange, Liam. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” the dancer said with a nonchalant shrug.

“You can tell me the truth,” Harry said. “I'm worried about you, mate.”

“You don't need to worry about me.”

“Of course I'm going to worry about you. You're my best friend.”

Harry didn't think he'd said anything particularly mind-blowing, but at his words, Liam looked shocked.

“I am?”

“Of course,” Harry said, though he thought the man had known that even before Harry realized it. He'd considered Harry his best mate on more than one occasion.

Liam smiled, suddenly seeming a lot less tense than before.

“I'm fine,” he said. “I'm not the one who nearly fainted at the airport, you know.”

“I didn't almost faint,” Harry said, but Liam looked down the bridge of his nose disbelievingly, so Harry amended, “I just didn't get much sleep last night is all.”

He wholeheartedly expected to be met with a snarky remark about Louis keeping him up all night, but he wasn't.

“None of us got a lot of sleep last night,” Liam said, “but the rest of us didn't nearly collapse.”

“I'm good, Liam. Promise.”

Harry knew he wasn't, of course, but he would be. As long as he was where he needed to be, he could be his version of 'good' for at least a little while.

“ As a best friend, I'm worried about you, Harry,” Liam continued on. “I don't want you to have to go back to an institution, but I'm at a loss for how to help you. Can you at least tell me what to do?”

“First of all, I'm not going to have to go back to...an...insti...Liam, how did you know about that?!”

Harry knew for a fact that the only people he had ever told about having to go to a mental facility were the friends he'd had back when he'd been sick the first time, and…

“Dracen,” Harry answered his own question. Liam remained silent, his eyes just as wide as when he realized he'd let slip on something he wasn't supposed to know.

“Sorry,” Liam finally nearly squeaked when Harry remained quiet as well, his breathing growing shallow. He was getting dizzy. He wanted to scream and cry and throw up and even punch something before collapsing and becoming unaware of the outside world for hours.

“When did he tell you?” he asked instead. He had removed his hand from Liam's arm a bit ago and now held tightly onto the treadmill, keeping himself steady on his feet.

“When we were all at the bar and you were outside talking to your sister on the phone.”

“Fuck,” Harry said, bending and straightening his knees as his legs grew weak.

“We're all just worried about you,” Liam said, which didn't help anything.

“Who exactly is 'we all?!'”

Liam noticeably swallowed.

“All of us,” he muttered, looking away for a moment as he ran a hand through his sweaty hair.

“He told everyone?!”

Liam jumped as Harry's tone raised and then he shrunk back a little, looking afraid. Harry wanted to cry, but instead, he just laughed; very humorlessly, but still.

“It makes perfect sense now,” he said.

“What does?” Liam asked, looking at Harry like he had lost his mind, but still obviously frightened. He kept his body arched uncomfortably backwards, trying to subtly distance himself from Harry when it wasn't subtle at all. Right now, though, Harry had other things to worry about besides the fact that Liam didn't want to be near him.

“Everything with Louis makes sense,” Harry explained. Well, he thought that should be explanation enough, but Liam looked confused. Harry couldn't go into further detail at the moment because he needed desperately to get back to Louis and fix this whole thing.

“I'll catch up with you later,” Harry said to Liam as he turned and jogged back to the elevators. The scale was going to have to wait.

“Hey,” Louis said with a smile as he opened the hotel room door after Harry had rapped on it. “I was wondering where you went.”

The smile was wiped off his face before he even finished his sentence and then he asked,

“Are you alright?”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah...of course.”

Louis stepped back, allowing Harry to enter the room, and then closed the door, following the dancer over to the bed. Harry didn't take a seat though; instead pacing in circles for a few rounds before stopping in front of Louis. His head was starting to spin, but he bit the insides of his cheek and swallowed, keeping himself alert.

“ Harry, what's wrong?” Louis asked, his frown deep, and Harry hated that. He hated that he did that; that he put that frown there.

“You don't have to go on a date with me,” Harry said, and for a moment, he thought he saw hurt cross Louis's face, but then reminded himself that that would be ridiculous.

“What do you mean I don't  _have_ to?” Louis asked.

“I know why you're doing it,” Harry said. Louis's frown somehow grew and he crossed his arms tightly over his chest.

“By the way you're acting, I don't think that you know why at all, but go ahead and explain your theory.”

Swallowing against the lump in his throat, Harry blinked the moisture in his eyes back rapidly and then, once he had a hold of himself again, continued.

“I know that Dracen told you about when I was a teenager and had to go to a facility for my, um, disorder.”

“Okay…,” Louis said, pausing as if he expected Harry to go on and when he didn't, saying, “Sorry, but I don't see what that has to do with us going on a date.”

“You really don't?”

“No, not at all.”

“So you didn't say you would go on a date with me just because you feel sorry for me?”

“No! Why would you think that, Harry?”

“It's the only thing that makes sense!” Harry exclaimed, and took a moment to, once again, collect himself. “Everyone told you what a big fan I was of you and you're a good person, so you said that you would go on a date with me so that I would maybe feel better about myself.”

Louis's mouth was literally hanging open, and Harry assumed that it was because he was shocked that Harry had figured him out, but then the singer shook his head quick enough to nearly give himself whiplash, his arms falling back down to his sides.

“No, Harry, that's not true at all!”

“You don't have to spare my feelings. I'm fine now. You can tell me the truth.”

As far as he knew, Louis had no idea that he still wasn't 'fine' so he was going to play that narrative up and hope that Liam hadn't blabbed like Dracen had.

“Do you want the truth?” Louis asked, crossing his arms yet again.

“Yeah.”

_No_ , he thought silently.  _I should have just gone to my room and locked myself in seclusion._

“I'm sorry that you went through all of that as a teenager,” Louis began, “and I know it will probably stay with you forever,  and it makes me sad,  but that doesn't mean that I  _feel sorry_ for you. I like you, Harry. You're funny and you're sweet and you're gorgeous and over all amazing. And before you get the wrong idea, I thought you were gorgeous before you lost the weight you have.”

It was Harry's turn to cross his arms, in a sad attempt at self-defense. He hadn't thought that anyone had noticed his weight loss because, even though he could see the differences earlier when he'd looked in the mirror, he had been looking for them and, besides, he still had enough parts of him that weren't growing thinner to distract from the places that were trimming up.

“I really hope you're okay,” Louis continued, “and maybe I should have mentioned the fact that you were losing weight before, but I wanted to believe you when you said that you were fine. Really, I'm not so sure. Either way, though, I want to be here for you.”

“I'm fine. I don't need help,” Harry said. The last thing he wanted was to put pressure on Louis and have him run faster, if, of course, he hadn't already succeeded in scaring him away.

“Are you sure?” Louis asked, studying Harry's face for something that Harry was unsure of. He tried to keep his expression neutral.

“Yes,” he said. “I don't want all of that to be the only thing you see when you look at me.”

Louis's shoulders slumped and his face softened. He took a subtle step closer to the other man.

“It's not,” he said.

“It's just none of this makes sense because why would you even like me?” Harry wondered aloud. He was aware that he probably should have kept that thought to himself, but while Louis was already experiencing his crazy, he might as well go all the way.

“I just told you,” Louis said, his voice still gentle.

“You were lying.”

_Be quiet, Harry, be quiet, be quiet, shut up!_

“I'm not lying, I-”

But Harry interrupted.

“Tell me how this makes sense then!” he said, his hands flying up helplessly. Mentally, he slapped himself, but that wasn't enough to get him to stop. “You're beautiful; I'm not. You're rich; I had to have my parents pay for half of my rent. You're outgoing and captivating; I'm awkward and basically invisible, which is completely okay because I'm comfortable that way, but still...You're funny and I'm fucking crazy. You're-”

It was Louis's turn to interrupt then.

“Okay, first off, firecracker, you're not crazy. I think you're quite funny and charming, and I'm sorry to tell you, but you're not invisible. Secondly...all of those things are so superficial, Harry. Do you think all I'm looking for is a pretty rich boy I can take to parties and show off? Do you think I'd give a shit if you were less attractive and came from a cardboard box on the side of the road, even if you had the same heart? Do you think I'm attracted to appearances only and couldn't care less about who you are as a person? Do you honestly think that I want someone I can take on cute dates as long as they smile and laugh at my jokes, but the second they give any indication that they're actually a fucking human with feelings and problems, I'm done? Do you think I'm like that, Harry? Tell me the truth.”

“No,” Harry said, looking down because the look of hurt was undeniable on Louis's face now and, damn it, that hurt Harry too. “I don't think you're like that at all. I know you're a good person, but the messed up part of me tries to convince me otherwise because I'm never going to feel good enough for you, so I have to get ready for you to realize it too.”

“That's...really fucking sad, Harry.”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut at the genuine pain that sounded in Louis's voice. He didn't want to hear that and know that, like the frown, he'd caused it. He wanted to disappear. He wished, not for the first time, that he had died in that car accident all those years ago.

Those thoughts popped up in Harry's mind every now and then. It happened less now than it used to, but he always wondered how things would be different if he hadn't made it out. For him, obviously, things would be good. He wouldn't feel a damn thing and he wouldn't need to eat. He always contemplated the state his mother, father and sister would be in at that point. Surely, nine years after the fact, they would have all accepted it and moved on. Probably, they would be happier than they were now as, every day, they waited for Harry to relapse and be put on his death bed yet again. Every day, they had to worry about if they would have to see their son and brother die before his time when he felt that his time should have been that wreck.

Sometimes those thoughts could lead Harry to very dark places, but that time, they were sweetly interrupted when Harry was pulled back from the gloomiest parts of his mind by a pair of lips on his. His eyes shot open, but only for a split second because, of course, it was Louis that was kissing him. At first, Harry just embraced the kiss, which may have been a bit awkward, but he didn't know what else to do when he was making Louis 'break his rule' again. He had just barely begun kissing back when Louis broke away.

For a few moments, neither of them said anything; just stared. When that got to be quite uncomfortable, Harry finally spoke.

“You broke your rule,” he said, and cleared his throat, hoping his voice would be stronger if he needed to speak again.

“Not really,” Louis said with a shrug. “I said that I don't kiss unless it's real and I don't need a date to know that I'm in this for real. Are you?”

“Louis...you don't understand how complicated I am.”

“Let's see, you ran out of your dance class the first day I observed you, despite the fact that it was basically an open audition for your dream career; you made me wait forever and a day to say that you would join the tour, despite later telling me that dancing was all you wanted to do and making it seem like you wanted to do it all along; you rejected my dance only to disappear and then come back later to ask me to dance; you can be so afraid of offending me one minute and then ruthlessly teasing me the next-which I enjoy, so don't think differently. You'll kiss me, but act like you did something wrong when you touch my knee and you'll let me kiss you despite the fact that you're doing everything in your power to try to push me away. I think I understand that you're a rather complex individual, Styles.”

Louis winked, keeping the mood as light as it could possibly be at the moment, and then he kissed him again. Harry was quick to kiss back that time, though it was only a peck from both.

“If this is actually your way of trying to get out of the date or of anything else, you can tell me. I'm not going to be upset. I just want to know what's going on in your head.”

“It's not...I'm not trying to get out of anything,” Harry said. “To be honest, I don't even know what's going on in my head half of the time.”

“Join the club,” Louis said with a humorless laugh, but his smile was genuine. “So you're still into...this?”

Harry nodded.

“Okay then,” Louis said. “Tomorrow, we're going to go on our date, and in the mean time, we are going to kiss until you realize how amazing you are.”

“We might be kissing a while then,” Harry said teasingly. Louis let out a fake sigh.

“Alright, if we must.”

Taking Harry's hand, Louis led him over to the bed and helped him to lay down gently. Then the singer climbed on top of the dancer, straddling his waist without actually putting much weight on him as he leaned down to kiss Harry's lips and then his neck. Harry's eyes briefly fluttered closed, but he opened them, cleared his throat and said,

“You know I won't break if you're actually on me...right?”

“I don't want to crush my tiny dancer with my massive bum.”

Harry snorted, but then felt bad about it, and said, “Oh my god, your bum is fine.”

“I wasn't saying anything  bad  about it, but it is rather large, isn't it?”

“I think it's quite lovely how it is.”

“Large is lovely, Harry.”

A beat of silence, and then,

“ Um...that sounded a lot dirtier than I meant it to, but, um...”

Harry laughed, saving Louis the pain of trying to recover from that statement by propping himself against the headboard and gently leading Louis's hips down until he was properly sitting on Harry's thighs. He hated to be treated like he was fragile, but, mostly, Harry just wanted Louis there.

Next, Harry leaned forward to kiss  the singer . He felt calmer now, suddenly. There was still the internal chaos, of course, but its volume was at low instead of booming around like a movie theater. 

He knew he wasn't going to ever have a sudden realization that he was, as Louis claimed, 'amazing,' but he thought that he was starting to believe that Louis really liked him anyway, and Harry could appreciate how truly beautiful that was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check back soon for Niam's chapter! Again, the goal is Tuesday, and I will still update like normal next weekend :)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Niam's chapter! It's all in Niall's POV, but I feel like the Niam is sometimes neglected in this fic and, when something substantial does happen between them, it's usually in Liam's point of view, so I decided to let Niall shine this time ;)

~~~~***Niall***

Niall knew that something was wrong with Liam and he couldn't shake the fear that it was his fault. He'd thought that, even after the mildly awkward morning he and Liam had had before the flight, they were okay. It quickly became obvious, though, that something still wasn't quite right with his crush. There was something missing from his smile and even from his voice when he spoke while, over all, he remained much quieter than usual. Even when Liam was asleep, he wasn't really relaxed. It all almost made Niall wish that he just hadn't said anything that night that he and Liam had cuddled and fallen asleep together, but he couldn't regret it too much when he knew he wouldn't take it back, given the chance. He'd needed to say it for himself, and he hoped that, one day, Liam would realize that he had needed to hear it.

After Liam had fallen asleep and woken up on the plane, he tried to smile, but something looked even more off than before. He'd been having nightmares, Niall thought, but before he could even think about questioning Liam, the other man asked how the book they had been reading was going. Maybe he was wrong, but Niall had a feeling that Liam had somehow known what he was going to ask and didn't want to talk about it, so he decided to refrain from bringing up the topic.

“I didn't even get a whole chapter read,” Niall admitted. “It just wasn't as fun without you.”

“Sorry,” Liam said, and his smile then was small, but it at least looked genuine.

“No need to apologize,” Niall assured him. “I probably should have slept too, but I don't think I would have been able to anyway.”

Instantly looking concerned, Liam tilted his head as his eyebrows pulled together.

“Do you feel alright?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

Niall made sure to give his own comforting smile. Liam simply nodded and then took the book they had been reading previously from the net on the back of the seat in front of Niall and began searching for where they had left off.

Proving himself wrong, Niall was asleep before Liam had even finished one more chapter.

When he woke up, Liam had a drink; an alcoholic one, of course. Niall didn't say anything, assuming, or at least hoping, that had been the only drink Liam had ordered, and he supposed that one drink for such a long flight wasn't bad.

 

Once Niall and Liam both started to feel as if they were really going to go stir crazy, the plane landed. Niall was one of the ones who clapped at the event.

Liam was completely silent on the ride back to the hotel, which Niall seemed to be the only one to notice at first. He desperately wanted to ask if he was okay, but he knew it would be pointless around the rest. Liam would, of course, insist that he was fine. Besides, Niall didn't want to draw attention to the fact that their friend was acting different, sure that was how Liam would want it.

Niall turned out not to be the only one to notice the man's strange behavior, though, and after everyone, minus Harry, got food, Harry took it upon himself to ask if he was alright.

“I'm fine,” Liam said, and Niall nearly rolled his eyes. He already knew this man all too well.

Harry seemed willing to let the subject go, despite the fact that Niall could tell he didn't believe Liam anymore than he did himself, but then a strange noise sounded throughout the backseat and they soon discovered it to be Liam hitting his wrists against the door handle. Gasping, Niall didn't even think about it before he reached out and covered Liam's hands, causing him to stop immediately. After a moment, Niall let go and Liam withdrew his hands; one sitting in his lap and the other on the seat next to him. Shifting subtly so that the others couldn't see, Niall gently stroked the hand resting on the seat with his pinky and, as he was hoping, Liam locked their fingers together.

They didn't let go until they reached the hotel.

Liam locked himself in the bathroom as soon as he and Niall got to their room, and when he came out, he was dressed in a t-shirt and sweats. He looked comfortable and very cuddly, and Niall was just wondering how likely another snuggle session would be when Liam said,

“I'm going to go down to the fitness room for a bit.”

“Aren't you exhausted?” Niall asked, because he could barely even think about moving from his bed at the moment, let alone exercising.

“I rested on the plane,” Liam said.

“Yeah, but that's not the same as sleeping in a bed.”

“I've been sitting for so long. I just need to move.”

“Alright. Well, more power to you, then.”

Niall honestly didn't know whether he should be irritated or amazed.

Without another word, Liam turned and exited the room. Niall sighed, way too disappointed over the fact that he wasn't going to get to cuddle Liam and nap than he should have been. Luckily, he was tired enough that he fell asleep anyway.

 

“Niall! Niall, hey, can you wake up? I need to talk.”

“Hm?” Niall hummed, and if he had heard Liam correctly, he would have woken up immediately, but he hadn't heard what he'd said and could barely even register that it was him speaking, so he simply turned his head and was out again before the person could repeat themselves.

 

When Niall did finally wake nearly three hours later, he looked to the side to see if Liam had returned yet, but he wasn't on the bed or at the nearby desk. It was only as Niall sat up and stretched, trying to decide if he should go look for the other man, that he realized the shower was going. He smiled, relieved. He already wasn't Liam's favorite person at the moment, and dragging him away from the fitness center would solidify his dislike.

Feeling full of energy, Niall stood from the bed and walked over to the mirror, attempting to fix his mess of hair the best he could without wetting it; shaking his hips and humming to some song he couldn't remember the name to at the time. As he worked on his appearance, his stomach growled and Niall decided that once Liam was out of the shower, he would ask him if he wanted to go eat at an authentic Australian steakhouse.

After a couple of minutes, Niall came to the conclusion that his hair was a lost cause until he could get into the bathroom, but overall, it didn't look terrible considering he'd been on a plane for almost a full twenty-four hours and had just woken from a three hour nap.

Just as he was turning from the mirror, preparing to watch some television and do some sit-ups while waiting for Liam, the shower water turned off. Niall went ahead and turned on the TV anyway, but forwent the exercise routine for the time being. He wasn't really paying attention to what was on, as he was too nervous over asking Liam to dinner. Maybe it was stupid. He and Liam had gone out to eat together before-never as a date, of course-but now, after their earlier conversation, Niall wondered if Liam would take to distancing himself. Niall had gotten too close and he assumed the other man was going to do a bit of pushing him away before giving up and letting him in again, at least a little bit.

But, then again, they had held hands in the car, so Niall was really just all sorts of confused and didn't know what the correct way to be feeling was.

Despite it all, once he heard the 'click' of the bathroom door being opened, he couldn't help but to smile. As pathetic as it was, he'd missed Liam. There had rarely been a time the two were apart since the tour had started and Niall didn't mind that at all. He wanted all the time in the world with Liam.

Unfortunately, it appeared that he was going to have to share because when the person had exited the bathroom and rounded the corner, Niall saw that it wasn't Liam. When he looked over to make eye contact with the stranger, he jumped.

“Sorry,” the other guy apologized with a smile. Niall didn't recognize him and, given his thick Australian accent and ugly blue button-up, he guessed that he was a worker at the hotel. “Didn't mean to startle you.”

“It's alright,” Niall said, even though he felt anything but. A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed against it. He wasn't even sure if he was sad, angry or both, but the nerves were gone and something much more unpleasant had taken its place.

“Noah!” a voice hissed, and Niall heard footsteps as Liam made his way quickly from the bathroom. “What are you doing? I thought you were leave-Oh...hey, Niall.”

“Hey,” Niall said, his voice flat, and he would be lying if he said he didn't feel a little smug at the shocked and guilty look that Liam had on his face. There was a few beats of awkward silence, broken eventually by Noah.

“Yeah, I'm leaving. I just heard that your room mate was awake and thought I'd introduce myself.”

“Noah, Niall; Niall, Noah. He works at the front desk.”

“I had a feeling,” Niall said, and, he didn't smile, but he at least made his lips twitch upward which was the best he was going to be able to do at the moment. Then, his voice laced with just enough sarcasm so that Liam was probably the only one that could tell, he said, “It's a pleasure, Noah.”

“Yeah, you too!” Noah said with a huge grin. Yep, he was completely clueless. “I'll see you around. Liam...I'll see you again before you leave?”

“Maybe. I'll be pretty busy with the shows and stuff, but, uh...we'll see. Shall I walk you to the door?”

Noah frowned, but it only lasted a second before he put the smile back on his face and nodded. Both rounded the corner, there was the sickening sound of two pairs of lips smacking together, and then the door opened and shut. Niall bit the insides of his cheeks, swallowed and had himself composed by the time Liam came back, the other dancer leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, just staring daggers into Niall's head.

“Yes?” Niall asked, turning his head from the TV to look at Liam as well.

“Nothing,” Liam said, diverting his eyes to the floor and shuffling his foot around before sitting on the edge of his bed and staring at what seemed to be nothing in particular. Niall outwardly sighed, his emotions changing yet again to make him feel guilty. Something was wrong with Liam, and Niall shouldn't be angry at the same coping strategy he always used, and he definitely shouldn't feel good that Liam had felt bad about it; maybe even ashamed.

It was only then that Niall remembered that someone had tried to pull him from his sleep earlier; a man. It made sense then that it had to have been Liam, and what had he said?

For the life of him, Niall couldn't recall, but that didn't change the fact that Liam had tried to rouse him. Maybe he'd tried to come to Niall with whatever was wrong and when Niall refused to wake, Liam did the only thing he knew could make him feel better.

It was a good thing Liam didn't want to date Niall. He would be a terrible boyfriend.

Flipping off the TV, Niall moved so that he was sitting on the side of his own bed, facing Liam, who was still concentrated on a seemingly very interesting speck on the floor.

“Hey,” the blonde said, making his voice much softer than it had been only moments before, “did you say something to me when you got back from working out?”

Liam shrugged. Niall took that as a yes.

“Sorry,” he said.

“Why are you apologizing?” Liam asked, and Niall was glad that he finally looked over to him, but was unhappy with the sad and distant look in Liam's eyes. “I shouldn't have even tried to wake you up. That was rude of me.”

“No it wasn't,” Niall tried to assure him. “I don't care at all to wake up if you need something. I was just super out of it. I'm sorry.”

“Stop apologizing!”

Liam sounded exasperated, and Niall bit his tongue so that he wouldn't apologize yet again for upsetting him.

“Well, what did you need?” he asked instead.

“It's nothing,” Liam mumbled, falling backwards onto the bed and covering his eyes for a brief second before letting his arms flop to his sides and looking at the ceiling.

“Please tell me,” Niall tried. He half expected Liam to get defensive and close up, as he often did when he was being pushed to talk about anything that went deeper than guys and alcohol, but to his surprise, that wasn't the case.

“I fucked up,” Liam sighed.

“How?” Niall asked, figuring that Liam's reason for fucking up was probably not having sex with some guy he didn't know in the shower of a hotel room like Niall thought it should be.

“I accidentally told Harry that we all know he was in an institution for his eating disorder when he was younger.”

Niall's eyes widened, but he composed himself quickly.

“I'm not judging or anything, Liam, but how did that accidentally come up?”

Liam sighed again.

“Long story short, he came to the fitness center, said he was worried about me and I said the same thing about him. I told him I didn't want him to be put back in an institution. I know I should have thought before I said that, but I'm just so scared...Anyway, he wanted to know how I knew, of course, so I told him, and then I fucked up again by telling him we were all worried about him.”

“It's going to be okay,” Niall assured the other, because while Harry was probably understandably upset, he had expected Liam's 'mess up' to be much worse, and now maybe Harry would realize how many people he had supporting him.

“I don't know. He was so upset. He got...angry. I've never seen him angry before.”

“I think he was probably mad at Dracen, not you.”

“I know that, but still. He said some shit about things with Louis making sense now, and he didn't explain what he meant by that before he ran off. That was hours ago and I haven't heard from him since. He didn't go back to his room, and it's not like I have Louis's number to get in contact with him and see if he's seen Harry.”

“He probably went to talk to Louis,” Niall theorized. “Maybe they've been talking or went to do something or...I don't know, but I'm sure Harry is fine.”

“He probably is, but I don't know for sure!”

“You didn't do anything wrong, Liam,” Niall said then. “Harry would have found out eventually anyway probably, and honestly, I don't even know if not telling him that we knew was the correct thing to do.”

“With how upset he is now that he knows we know, it was the right thing.”

“Well, we'll have a chat with him and make him feel better. In fact, I'm sure that's what Louis is doing right now, which is why you haven't heard from him.”

“What if he's not?”

“Then apparently Harry just needed some time alone, like everyone does sometimes. It's going to be fine, Liam. I understand why you feel bad, but you don't need to. You didn't do anything wrong. Everything will be fine.”

Liam began to say something, closed his mouth, and then sighed. When he did say something, Niall thought it was different than what he had planned the first time.

“I just don't know how to help him.”

“I know. Me neither.”

Taking a chance, Niall got off his bed and joined Liam in laying on his.

“We'll figure it out though. We're going to make sure he's okay.”

“You're so optimistic,” Liam commented, turning to look at Niall, and he didn't smile, but he looked at least a bit more relaxed than before.

“I've got to balance out your negativity,” Niall teased, and then said, “I'm scared too, but until there's not a choice, I have to believe the best.”

Liam nodded, like he understood, even though Niall wasn't sure he did. He and Liam definitely were two very different people when it came to coping with stress. Niall became dangerously optimistic, and Liam simply became a danger to himself.

“Now,” Niall continued, “I know this stuff with Harry is terrifying and that it's everyone's big focus right now, but you can be a little less selfless and tell me what's going on with you.”

“Selfless?” Liam asked, one eyebrow quirking up. Niall nodded and Liam gave a humorless laugh. “I don't think that has ever been an adjective used to describe me.”

“Allow me to be the first then,” Niall said. “Seriously, though, mate, what's up?”

“What do you mean? I told you. I was stressing over telling Harry that-”

“No, something was going on before that,” Niall interrupted. He felt rude but he was really not in the mood to hear Liam pretend that everything was fine, as he usually did.

“No it wasn't,” Liam disagreed anyway, and Niall rolled his eyes.

“You've been extremely quiet which, no offense, is completely unlike you, and, once again, no offense, but perfectly happy and okay people do not bang their wrists into door handles.”

“That was a subconscious thing,” Liam said.

“Okay,” Niall responded noncommittally, “but what's wrong that you subconsciously felt the need to do that?”

“Nothing.”

Again, Niall rolled his eyes.

“Twenty questions?” he suggested. Liam frowned.

“What?”

“Shall we play twenty questions?”

“I don't know,” Liam replied cautiously. “What kind of questions are we asking?”

“Anything we want, but if we don't want to answer a certain one, we can pass and have each other ask something else.”

Liam took a moment to study the bedspread, running his finger around the shapes in the print while he thought. Finally, he stilled and looked back to Niall.

“Fine.”

“Great,” Niall said, sitting up and crossing his legs. Liam did the same.

“Who first?”

“I'll probably regret this, but you.”

“Okay. What's wrong?”

“I knew it. Pass.”

“Favorite color?”

“Purple.”

“Purple is a nice color. Your turn.”

“Are you a natural blonde?”

“Unfortunately, no. Boxers or briefs?”

Liam snorted and Niall grew rather proud of himself.

“Boxers,” Liam answered. “Condom or raw?”

“Jesus Christ!” Niall breathed, causing Liam to laugh again, the dimple appearing by his eye that proved it was a real smile. “Condom. I'd rather not have to worry about contracting AIDS or an STD while I'm cheerily going at it.”

Liam snorted not only once or twice, but three times at that answer, covering his face as he laughed, and Niall smiled. He intended to get to some deeper questions, but he dreaded seeing that smile fade.

“Okay, so...I'm not sure I want to know the answer to this, actually, but….Please tell me you use condoms, Liam.”

“Of course,” Liam answered, uncovering his face, but still smiling. “I'm not stupid.”

Niall let out a breath, relieved.

“I know you're not stupid, Liam,” he said, “but I do think we should come up with a safe word?”

“Safe word?” Liam asked, his eyebrow lifting again.

“Yeah. You know, a word that you can text me or say when you call me to let me know that you need help or whatever.”

“Niall, that is...ridiculous.”

Niall wasn't offended by the remark because maybe it was, but he would feel better if he and Liam made one anyway.

“Just humor me?”

“Okay, fine, but the safe phrase has to be 'blue balls.'”

“Blue-...Okay, whatever you want.”

Liam's smile grew for a moment, clearly amused, but, even though Niall knew that he was laughing at him on the inside, he didn't care because he really did feel so much better.

“Okay, whose turn was it?” Liam asked.

“Yours.”

“Oh yeah. Um...if you weren't a dancer, what do you think you would want to do, career-wise.”

“Sports manager, probably.”

Liam nodded in approval.

“That would be cool,” he said.

“Maybe I'll do it someday when I'm too old to dance professionally. Who knows? Anyway...hm...favorite childhood memory?”

Niall didn't think that question would be too deep or personal. In fact, he thought it was a rather light question, but Liam grew silent, his smile slowly turning to a frown as his brows pulled together in concentration. The other dancer's heart dropped because, honestly, he didn't think a favorite childhood memory should take so long to come up with, unless there were just too many, which Niall didn't think to be the case, given Liam's expression.

“Li?” he prodded after a good while of silence. “You can pass if you want.”

Niall supposed he could stick to asking his favorite animal or something, but Liam shook his head.

“No, I've got one,” he said.

“Okay, I'm ready.”

“It's going to sound stupid.”

“I doubt that, but if it makes you happy, who cares?”

“Yeah...I guess.”

A moment passed and so Niall decided that Liam needed a little more encouragement.

“Go on,” he urged. “I'm not going to judge.”

“Okay.”

Liam smiled nervously before continuing.

“So when I was twelve, my parents and I went on vacation to Dublin, Ireland.”

When Liam mentioned Niall's country, a small smile graced his lips and he nodded to the other man, who smiled as well, but stayed quiet and waited for his story to go on.

“We were at the zoo one day and I sneaked off into some shops while they were taking a bathroom break. I'd broken my arm right before we left home from, um, falling down the stairs or something, and so I had this bright blue cast on. There was this kid and he, um...Yeah, you're really going to think this is lame, but-”

“He told you he liked your cast?” Niall guessed, his heart picking up speed. _No_ , he tried to tell himself. It couldn't be. This didn't mean anything. There were plenty of people from the UK who traveled to Dublin, and lots of people, kids especially, had broken arms. Almost every twelve-year-old-boy probably picked to have a blue cast. There was no way…

“Yeah,” Liam said. “We talked for a little bit. He told me he liked my accent and then we went and he bought us both ice cream. I hadn't thought to get his name, because I guess that's just not something twelve-year-old boys think about, but he was about to sign my cast with this dinosaur highlighter he'd taken from the store, and then-”

“Then your dad showed up,” Niall interrupted again. Liam frowned, but he looked more confused than annoyed, oblivious to what Niall now knew; That it had been Liam he met that summer so long ago, and it had been he who had nearly signed Liam's cast.

“Is my story that predictable?” Liam asked. “I swear it's true. I'm not making it up.”

“I know you're not,” Niall assured him, “because...uh...I was the kid.”

Liam's frown deepened.

“What?”

“Yeah,” Niall said, because he had a suspicion that Liam had heard him just fine and needed time to process the information he'd been given. “I was the kid in the shop that said he liked your cast and...holy shit, how did I not recognize you?”

The question was stupid, Niall supposed. They had been young and had only spent about a half an hour in each other's company. Really, Niall thought that if he were anyone else, he would barely even remember the day at all, but he had. In fact he'd played the day over and over in his head for the next few weeks after it had happened until the memory finally started to fade. It never went away completely though.

“I didn't recognize you either,” Liam pointed out, studying Niall's face. “Are you sure it was me? It wasn't just some other English boy with a blue cast?”

“Not unless we had the exact same experience with different guys.”

Liam thought about it and then shook his head.

“Probably not likely,” he said.

“Probably not.”

“I just can't believe...How the fuck is that even possible?”

 _Fate,_ Niall wanted to answer, but that would be the cheesy answer, so he decided to stick with the more logical one for now.

“Small world and all that,” he said. “Told you I wasn't a natural blonde.”

Liam smiled.

“That's so fucking crazy.”

“Can I confess a couple of things to you?” Niall asked.

“By all means.”

“First...I only took that highlighter because I saw you slip candy into your pocket and I wanted you to think I was cool. I put it back later.”

Liam laughed. Niall smiled, and then went on to his second confession.

“And when I signed your cast, I was definitely going to pull a trick from the movies and put my phone number on it too.”

The other man refrained from laughing at that one, but his smile grew so wide that the dimple appeared again. Niall wondered if it was a happy smile or a mocking one. Perhaps both.

“Damn it,” he sighed once his smile had faded as he threw himself back onto the bed again, his head resting on a pillow. “My father just had to ruin everything.”

“Like you would have used my number anyway,” Niall teased, laying down right next to the other. “You don't seem like the long distance relationship type.”

“Hey, back then, who knows? I hadn't yet discovered the wonders of using casual sex as therapy. I was actually quite a cheese ball myself.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So what happened?”

“Life,” Liam answered dramatically after a short pause. For the multiple time that day, Niall rolled his eyes.

“You would have called me then?”

“Yeah, and it would have been worth being beaten for the long distance minutes.”

Though the way he said the words were light and teasing, Niall cringed. He had assumed, with how shut off Liam was, that someone had hurt him, but he had figured it to be a crush or previous boyfriend who made a dumb mistake and broke his heart. Now he had to wonder if it was actually a hundred times worse than that.

Maybe he was jumping to conclusions. Twelve-year-old boys were reckless and clumsy. Broken arms were common amongst them, as he'd reminded himself earlier. It was a typical 'joke' to say that someone's parents would beat or kill them if they did something wrong. Those things weren't all that strange, but Niall guessed that Liam didn't remember that his pre-teen self had told Niall he'd broken his arm by falling off a horse, not by tumbling down the stairs, and he also had a feeling that Liam was oblivious to how he had jumped when his dad had yelled his name after Niall had only put a simple 'N' on his bright blue cast.

 _Please, please make me be jumping to conclusions_ , Niall pleaded to no one in particular.

“I guess putting my e-mail address would have been a better method,” he spoke, and hoped that Liam didn't notice the slight quiver in his voice.

“Far less cool though,” Liam said with another smile and a wink. Well, Niall assumed it was supposed to be a wink, but Liam apparently needed both eyes to do it. That was okay though because it was basically the cutest thing ever; even cuter than the eye dimple.

“Would you have let me take you on a date before you left Dublin?” Niall asked.

“Hm...What would we have done on our date at the very mature age of twelve?”

“Mini-golf, of course,” Niall said, not mentioning that, should Liam not have been taken away when he had, he would have asked him to go mini-golfing with him and a couple of his friends later that night when they had met.

“How would I have been able to say no to mini-golf?” Liam questioned.

“So, hey, Liam?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to go mini-golfing with me?”

That produced another laugh from the man.

“Sure, but it's not considered a date at twenty.”

“Why not?”

“It's just not.”

“Hm...What if we went to a park and fed the ducks afterward?”

“Why would that make it a date?”

“Why wouldn't it be a date in the first place?”

It was Liam's turn to roll his eyes, but the smile was still on his face and he used his index finger to bop Niall on the nose.

“I don't date.”

“But you said that you would have told me yes back then.”

“Yeah; then.”

“I'm the same person now as I was then, just a lot less awkward and a lot more attractive, in my humble opinion. Other than that, I haven't changed.”

“Maybe not, but I have.”

Liam had turned serious again, so, holding in a sigh, Niall scooted closer to him and reached out to gently stroke his cheek-hey, he just really wanted to touch Liam, okay? He never got his cuddle session earlier-but the man flinched back when he saw Niall's hand going towards his face. The smaller dancer's heart sank again.

“Twenty questions again?” he asked, withdrawing his hand and putting it underneath his head so that he wouldn't again reach out for the other unthinkingly.

“Okay,” Liam said.

“How did you break your arm when you were twelve?”

“I told you; I fell down the stairs.”

“That's what you told me today. Back then you told me you fell off a horse.”

Liam fish-mouthed, caught in his lie, and Niall wanted to assure him that it would be okay; that he just wanted to be there for him, but he remained silent.

“It just sounded cooler,” Liam finally said, far too late, and his voice was weak. Niall even thought he saw the beginnings of tears welling up in his eyes. He blinked furiously, but they didn't go away.

“Your turn to ask a question,” Niall said.

“I don't...I don't want to play this anymore,” Liam said, and it pained Niall how hard he tried to hold it together only for his lip to quiver and a tear to roll down his cheek before he quickly turned his head to bury his face in the pillow; trying to hide.

“Liam,” Niall called out gently.

“What?” the other asked, his voice much higher than normal. He cleared his throat and sniffled.

“Talk to me.”

“No.”

“Can I...Can I touch you?”

Liam said something, but spoke much too quickly for Niall to be able to understand with the words being muffled by the pillow.

“I'm sorry, but I have no idea what you said,” he told him. Liam sat up, wiping his eyes furiously, though that wouldn't have hid the fact that he was crying anyway. Niall was often frustrated by the fact that Liam wouldn't ever admit to his emotions, but seeing him like this was so painful that Niall almost wanted to look away. He didn't though, for fear that if he broke eye contact, then he would also break the trust that Liam was showing him in the moment.

“Of course you can touch me!” he cried, tugging at his hair, so Niall took that as permission to sit up and hold his hand, just to get him to stop. Liam intertwined his fingers with Niall's, but was no more relaxed as he went on.

“Everyone's allowed to touch me!” he said, shaking Niall's hand as he swung around his own. “Have you not realized by now that I'm a fucking queer whore?!”

“Liam!” Niall gasped harshly, causing the other to grow quiet, but also making him jump. “Sorry, but...don't say that! Fuck, _someone_ has said that to you, haven't they?”

Niall's question was rhetorical, which he guessed Liam knew because he didn't answer; only took a deep, shaky breath in as he continued to try to blink back his tears.

“I don't know what all has happened to you,” Niall spoke again, “but you can tell me how much-or how little-you want. No matter what, you have me, okay? You don't _have_ to get drunk or sleep with strangers if you don't want to. And you can be whoever you want to be, not just who some cunt told you that you are or made you feel like you are.”

“Can we just pretend this didn't happen?” Liam asked, taking his hand away from Niall to cover his face, resting his knees on his elbows.

“I'd rather not. I want to get to know you, Li; the real you and all of you. I don't know if you realize this, but you're allowed to act like a human because you are, you know, a human and not a...dancing sex robot.”

Liam snorted, which sounded quite lovely through his tears, and he muttered an 'ew' at himself. Niall laughed and went to pat his knee, but stopped.

“I'm sorry that I've probably tainted your favorite childhood memory though,” he commented, and was both happy and sad that the thirty minutes they'd spent together in a zoo when they were young was the best memory that Liam could come up with.

“Yeah, that was quite a dick move,” Liam commented, uncovering his face, but his smile showed that he was joking. His eyes were dryer than before, though tears still stained his cheek and Niall wanted to kiss him until all was fine, but that would make him one of Liam's therapy 'tools' and not his friend, so he didn't.

“How was the rest of your Ireland vacation?” Niall asked.

“It kind of sucked, to be honest,” Liam said, and Niall's mouth dropped open.

“Ouch! That kind of hurts me on the inside.”

“It's nothing to do with your beautiful country,” Liam assured him. “Just the company I was with.”

“That is still unacceptable,” Niall told him. “When we travel there for tour, I'm going to make it up to you, I promise.”

Liam just smiled wider, shaking his head.

“You're...I have no words for you.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.”

Before Liam could reply, Niall's phone began ringing from where it was lying on the other bed. Niall hurried over to get it and then went right back to be next to Liam, flashing the screen at the other before he answered so that he could see who was calling.

“Harry, hey.”

“Hey, Niall,” Harry said. “Have you heard from Liam? He's not answering his phone.”

Niall laughed, not because anything was funny, but because it was just like those two to be going through their own personal hell but still worrying about each other, and everybody else, above all.

“Yeah, he's in the room with me,” Niall said. “He's good.”

“Oh, good,” Harry sighed in relief.

“Everything good with you?” Niall asked.

“Yeah, all is fine. Please tell Liam that.”

“I will.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Catch up with you soon?”

“Yeah. Thanks again.”

They hung up and Niall smiled up at Liam.

“I think you may have missed a call or two,” he said. Liam reached into his pocket, but apparently did not find his phone, and his eyes grew wide before he patted himself down.

“Oh, wait,” he said after a few seconds of undeniable panic. “I left it in the bathroom.”

“Harry was worried about you,” Niall said.

“How ironic.”

“That's what I was thinking. He says all is good though.”

“I hope so. Sorry I just freaked out.”

“No need to apologize,” Niall said with a shrug.

“I need a nap,” Liam announced, and he did look absolutely exhausted. Niall's stomach growled, reminding him that he was hungry. He then remembered that he had been planning on going to an Australian steakhouse with Liam, but figured that it was not the right time.

“Take a nap,” he said. “In the mean time, I'm going to order room service. Do you want anything?”

“I'll just order something when I wake up.”

“Okay.”

Moving very slowly, Niall leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to Liam's forehead. He knew that it was a move which could very likely blow up in his face, but Liam was smiling sleepily when he pulled away.

“Can I get serious again for a moment?” Niall asked.

“I suppose,” Liam sighed jokingly.

“Not everyone that wants to get close to you wants to do so only to hurt you or take from you.”

Liam's face became serious, but he didn't look upset at what Niall said. Rather, he looked contemplative. Niall decided to leave him to that.

“Have a good nap,” he said, and threw himself off the bed to fetch the room service menu from the desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be up this weekend :)


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of these chapters are getting ridiculously long. I'm sorry for the instability in length XD

***Niall***

Liam was still asleep by the time Niall was growing hungry again, so, putting the idea of going to a steakhouse away for another time, he grabbed a snack from the vending machine and decided to go outside for some fresh air. It was dark and cold, and Niall shivered as soon as he stepped out, and it only then occurred to him that it might be summer in England, but it was not in Australia. He could run onto the tour bus and grab a jacket, he supposed, but quickly decided that it wasn't worth it. After eating, he would go back inside. Maybe by then, Liam would be awake and they could cuddle under the warm blankets.

That was probably hoping for way too much, but Niall wasn't an optimist for nothing.

Niall had gone to the back of the hotel, where the buses were parked, and he wasn't sure he was allowed to do that, but was comforted by the fact that Zayn and Louis were also out there, sitting on the ground a little more than a hundred feet away, chatting as Zayn smoked something that didn't smell like a cigarette. He smiled, but was going to leave them be until Zayn noticed him in the distance and called out to him.

“Niall! Hi, Niall! Come join us!”

Louis turned, and Niall thought he gave a smile, but it was hard to tell when his face was only being illuminated by a very faint light. Still, he took his cheez-its and walked over to the two.

“Hey,” he greeted with a nod as he shoved food into his mouth.

“Hello,” Louis greeted, his grin clear that time. “Have a seat.”

Obediently, Niall sat on the ground next to the two.

“You want a hit?” Zayn asked, holding his blunt out to the other dancer as he blew a stream of smoke from his mouth.

“No, thank you,” Niall said kindly.

“You two are boring,” Zayn commented. Niall and Louis smiled at each other, neither offended.

“How is Harry doing?” Niall asked the singer as Zayn took another hit for himself. “I heard that he knows about Dracen telling us about his problem.”

“Yeah,” Louis said. “He was freaking out at first, but I think he's okay now, or at least as okay as he can be expected to be.”

“Do you think he still has an eating disorder?”

Louis thought for just a moment.

“I don't think that's something that you ever really get rid of once you've had it, but he seems to be eating...I think.”

He paused again and then frowned, but that lasted only a second before he put the smile back on his face.

“How is Liam?”

“Okay, I guess,” Niall answered, deciding not to question what the brief change of demeanor was about. If he had wanted to share whatever thought had caused that reaction, then he would have.

“Liam is bat shit crazy,” Zayn commented, and Niall felt himself become slightly offended.

“Zayn!” Louis said, hitting his dancer's knee lightly with the back of his hand.

“Sorry! Zayn said, holding up his hands before taking another hit and then throwing the rest of his cigar on the ground. “He's a nice guy and all, but in the car on the way here he was all, like...I don't know, it was like he belonged in _Girl, Interrupted_ or some shit.”

“That doesn't mean he's crazy,” Niall said, making sure to keep his tone even. He knew that Zayn hadn't actually meant any offense. He was just high as a freaking kite.

“He and Harry both need help,” Zayn said, and neither of the others could deny that. Zayn continued, “Like, I know you love Liam and all, Niall, but have you thought of moving onto someone with less daddy and/or mommy issues?”

“Hey,” Louis said sternly, “guys with daddy issues are great in bed.”

Louis winked at Niall.

“Sure,” Zayn said, “if Niall is into all that kinky stuff.”

“I guess he can call me daddy if he really wants to,” Niall said, mostly joking, but kind of serious too. Louis laughed loudly, then covered his face and rested his elbows on his knees.

“That's so gross,” he said, his words clear even if his voice was muffled.

“Hey, don't kink shame,” Zayn said, and he was smiling.

“Not all daddies are bad, Louis,” Niall said softly, but smiling to show that he was, mainly, joking. “Some of them do truly love their babies...or sugar babies.”

“Stop!” Louis said, covering his ears, but keeping his eyes tightly shut still. The other two laughed.

“I'll be sure to tell Harry not to call you daddy,” Zayn said, getting to his feet and wiping his hands on his pant leg before wiping the dirt from his bottom. “And on that note, I'm going inside. I'm hungry.”

“Of course you are, Zayn,” Niall said, and he would have offered him some of his food, had he not eaten it all. Zayn didn't reply to him, his face suddenly twisted in concentration; his eyebrows pulled together. Louis and Niall glanced to each other, partly amused with just a little concern.

“Hey, Zayn?” the singer called and when he got no answer, said, “Zayn! Earth to Zayn! You okay, mate?”

“Do you think weed can cure Harry's anorexia?” Zayn asked, speaking slowly, his eyes still glazed over.

“I doubt it,” Louis said. Zayn's shoulders slumped and at his disappointment, Louis added, “It was a good theory, though.”

Shaking himself, Zayn blinked his eyes back into focus and smiled.

“Good night!”

Louis and Niall told him good night and watched as he made his way inside.  Then, Louis looked to Niall and smiled again.

“So how are you doing?” he asked.

“I'm great,” Niall replied. “How are you? Your voice still sounds a little rough. Are you going to be good for the concert in a couple days?”

“I'm fine,” Louis said, and then coughed. Niall raised an eyebrow.

“You're sure you're not sick?”

“I'm not sick,” Louis stated. “I'm taking Harry on a date tomorrow.”

“Oh, so what I'm hearing is that you're going to pretend you're not sick.”

“I'm fine,” Louis insisted. “I'm getting pretty insulted that everyone keeps telling me that my voice sounds like shit when I sing for a living, though.”

Niall smiled, knowing the man was joking, but assuring him anyway.

“Your voice doesn't usually sound like that, which is why we know there's a problem.”

Louis shook his head, but then proceeded to have a coughing fit. Niall gave him a knowing look as he waited for him to stop and, once he had, said,

“I don't think you should be out in the cold, in all honesty. Maybe we should go in.”

“In a minute,” Louis said. Niall didn't argue and let a few moments of silence passed. It was broken by Louis.

“What should I do about Harry? I want to make him happy, but I don't think that I can overpower a mental illness that keeps telling him he isn't good enough. Harry told me that he doesn't even think he's good enough for me. Isn't that crazy?”

“I'm used to it,” Niall said. “He always said that back when the lot of us were only teasing him about dating you; before we really knew that it was going to happen.”

“That's so sad,” Louis said, and he did sound quite torn up about it. “I don't know how someone can see flaws that aren't there.”

“I don't know,” Niall said, knowing that he wasn't helping at all, but he was at a loss too. Another second of quiet passed and then Louis spoke again.

“I don't think Liam is crazy, by the way,” he said. “I think he's hurt, like Harry, but that he showcases it in a very different way.”

“Yeah,” Niall agreed, not informing Louis of just how correct he was. “What are we going to do with them?”

“I don't know,” Louis said. “Love them until they learn to love themselves and then love them more then, if that's possible, I guess.”

“That was deep,” Niall said, and he hadn't meant for it to sound like he was making fun of the singer, but Louis laughed and looked embarrassed.

“I'm writing a song with that line,” he teased himself.

“It will be a hit,” Niall assured him. Louis laughed again, though it turned to a long cough.

“Oh, shit,” he breathed, slowly rising to his feet. Niall followed suit.

“Are you finally going in?” the dancer asked.

“I guess,” Louis said. “It's so cold out here that I'm getting hot.”

“That makes no sense,” Niall informed the other. “I think you definitely have a fever.”

“I'm taking Harry on a date tomorrow.”

“A date to the doctor's office sounds like it will be lovely.”

“We're not going there!” Louis exclaimed, and then gave a cough so harsh that even Niall cringed. Without another word, the two went inside.

“Hey, by the way, did I ever give you my phone number?” Louis asked in the elevator. Niall noted that his voice was starting to fade again, but didn't say anything about it.

“No,” he answered his question.

“Let me give it to you,” Louis said, and so Niall unlocked his phone and handed it to the singer.

“You can give it to Liam too,” he told him afterward as he stood in front of the now-opened elevator doors to prevent it from shutting and taking them back down. “He sounded pretty freaked out on the voice mail that he left Harry.”

“Yeah,” Niall said. “He felt really bad about accidentally telling him all that.”

“Harry was worried when he couldn't reach Liam too,” Louis said.

“Those two may drive us crazy one day,” Niall thought out loud. Louis laughed, but agreed. Since they were on Niall's floor, he stepped out.

“Have a good night, Louis,” he said. “Get some rest and try to feel better.”

“I feel fine,” Louis insisted. Niall rolled his eyes.

“Good night,” he said again.

“Good night.”

Sadly, Niall's optimistic thought had not come true and Liam was still asleep when he entered his room. Figuring that he was out for the night at that point, Niall got into his pajamas and laid down in his own bed. He couldn't keep his eyes off of Liam, though, until the other dancer took a deep breath in and stretched his arm out in front of him as he turned his head. Niall feared he'd stared so hard that he'd woken him, but then Liam's arm flopped back down to his side and he stilled. Finally, Niall looked away, feeling a bit creepy. He wanted to crawl into bed with Liam anyway, but knew that would be even creepier and so just turned off the light, rolled over and closed his eyes, knowing that he would probably see Liam in his sleep anyway.

***Liam***

Liam slept well, and when he woke at five in the morning, he felt refreshed. He was unsure why at first, until he looked over to Niall sleeping in the other bed and then he remembered. The smile slipped off his face and panic rose up in him because now Niall knew too much. He'd put some of the pieces together about Liam's life before the dance academy, where he'd taken on his 'numb sex machine' persona. He'd seen Liam cry. Basically, he'd been face to face with past Liam, and Liam did not like it. There was a reason he wasn't like that anymore. Now that Niall knew he was vulnerable, he could use it against him.

_Niall wouldn't do that_ , Liam tried to tell himself. Besides, Niall had already met past Liam because he'd been the kid at the zoo. The boy that Liam had been wondering if he would let him run away with him was Niall. Niall had been the one who allowed Liam to realize, without a doubt, that he got the butterfly feelings over boys, not girls, and Liam spent years chasing that feeling again until he realized that his father had been right; he wasn't going to find love with a man because any man who liked guys would find Liam too weak, too sensitive; too _girly_ , as if being girly was a bad thing.

But Niall had met weak, sensitive, feminine Liam, and he'd liked him well enough. He'd actually met him twice; once at the zoo and then again at university because Liam hadn't developed his persona until a couple months into his first semester at school.

Liam had been forced from Niall's life twice, Liam realized then. First, he'd been taken by his father and the second time, he'd had to leave from his own actions, but even though he'd left Niall's life twice, Niall had come back into his three times. If Liam was anyone else, he might consider that a sign, or fate, or something, but he was Liam and, as he'd already concluded, he wasn't Niall's fate. Maybe he was a challenge that Niall had to get around and once he got rid of Liam for good, he would be free to live the happily ever after he deserved while Liam was stuck sleeping with strangers and drinking away his loneliness.

Except he wasn't lonely. Nope, Liam didn't get lonely. He embraced being by himself, actually. Really, he did.

His body didn't appear to get the message that Liam's mind was trying to send him and infuriating tears pricked at his eyes again. Sitting up, Liam pressed his wrists hard into his eye sockets until the tears were gone and then he blinked until the colors of the dark room were normal again and his vision was clear.

After getting a quick shower, where he tried to scrub away any sign of weakness he'd let himself have the night before, Liam quietly left the room and went down to the lobby.

“Can I help you?” the lovely front desk lady asked as Liam approached her.

“Hi,” Liam said with a small smile. “Do you know where the nearest grocery store is?”

The lady gave him directions and Liam nodded along. Then, she asked,

“Would you like me to call a cab for you? It's about three miles away.”

“That's okay,” Liam assured her. “I can walk.”

“Alright, sir. Just give the front desk a ring if you get lost or have any questions.”

“Thank you.”

Liam took the paper that she had written the directions on and went on his way. The morning air was cold, even with his sweatshirt on, but Liam didn't mind.

On his way to the store, Liam checked his bank statement to see how much money he had. He was pleasantly surprised when he saw that his first check from Louis had come in. It felt nice that he could buy as much alcohol as he wanted, but reminded himself that he had to use most of the money to pay Harry back. Oh well. He could still get a couple packs.

Liam started in on the drinks during his walk back to the hotel. He was on his second by the time he reached the room, but it was nearly gone, so he set a third on his nightstand and put the rest in the mini fridge the hotel provided.

Niall began to stir as Liam started in on his third drink, his head becoming just a bit foggy, and he sat up as Liam gave a quiet burp.

“Good morning,” Niall greeted with a yawn. “Can I turn on the lamp?”

“Go ahead,” Liam allowed. Niall did, and he was giving a sleepy smile, but it fell off his face quickly when he saw the bottle in Liam's hand.

“You're starting early,” he noted.

“Breakfast,” Liam explained.

“There are, you know, muffins and such downstairs,” Niall said. “That would be a better breakfast than...whatever that is.”

“Some Australian drink,” Liam said, glancing at the bottle but not actually reading the name. “It's really good though. Want to try it?”

“Why not?” Niall sighed, getting out of bed and taking the bottle that Liam was offering him. He made a face as the liquid slid down his throat and handed the drink back to Liam. “It's way too early to drink,” he said.

“No it's not,” Liam disagreed, pretending that he wasn't actually feeling a bit sick.

“How many have you had?” Niall asked.

“This is my third.”

“Jeez. No wonder you look like you want to upchuck.”

Liam finished off the bottle and fought off a gag.

“I'm good,” he said nonchalantly. Niall didn't look like he believed him at all.

“So I'm assuming this means you regret last night.”

“I was having a moment of weakness,” Liam said. “I'm sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing for having emotions?” Niall sighed. “I thought we discussed this and came to the conclusion that you're not a robot.”

“I want to be a robot,” Liam said. Niall shook his head.

“Robots might not be able to feel sadness, but they can't feel happiness either, Liam.”

Liam shrugged and crossed his legs, not mentioning that happiness was such a rarity for him that he might as well never feel it at all. Even though he kept that thought to himself, Niall looked at him sadly.

“I'm sorry,” the blonde finally said. Liam frowned, confused.

“What the hell are you apologizing for?”

“For not chasing after you at the zoo and, later, for not ever really making a move to even be your friend at university. I wanted to do both of those things.”

Liam remained silent, unsure of what to say because he still didn't really know why Niall was apologizing.

“Want to come get some real breakfast with me?” the Irishman asked.

“Okay,” Liam said, thinking food might do him good. He thought wrong, and after only a couple of bites, he pushed his plate away and covered his face, taking deep breaths in an attempt to not be sick all over the table.

“Still think morning drinking was a good idea?” Niall questioned.

“Don't make fun of my pain,” Liam mumbled.

“I would never make fun of your pain, Liam,” Niall said, his voice much more gentle.

Liam took another moment to compose himself and then lowered his hands to his lap, giving Niall the best smile he could muster. The other simply looked back at him in worry.

“I'm good now,” Liam said.

“I don't think you know what 'good' is,” Niall muttered, going back to his cereal. Again, Liam didn't give him a reply.

On the way back to their room, Niall stopped at a vending machine to buy Liam a Sprite. Liam thanked him, genuinely touched by the thought, even if it wasn't necessarily a big deal.

The pair watched a few shows on TV in their separate beds. Liam sipped on his drink and once he finally felt better, he was ready to go.

“Okay, so what are we doing today?” he asked, sitting up straight and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Niall looked at him, dumbfounded.

“You are exhausting,” he sighed. Liam frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“You go from sad, to drunk, to fine, to sick, to sad, to fine, faster than anyone I've ever met.”

Liam smiled and even gave a small laugh, but Niall didn't return either.

“Seriously, I don't know how you live as you.”

“I'm quite a wonder,” Liam said, going to sit by Niall's feet. “Come on, let's get Louis, Harry and Zayn and go do stuff. I'm bored and you know what I do when I'm bored and unentertained.”

Liam winked but, still, Niall looked unamused.

“I don't know if Louis and Harry can come,” he said. “It depends on what time their date is.”

“They have a date?!” Liam asked, his mouth falling open.

“Oh, yeah,” Niall said. “Or Louis said they did last night at least.”

“This man tells me nothing,” Liam sighed.

“Do you want to go to a steakhouse tonight?” Niall asked, changing the subject.

“That sounds good,” Liam said, already taking out his phone. “I'm going to call Harry, hold on.”

  


Harry agreed to go to dinner with Liam and Niall that night, though was going to stay with Louis until then. The singer was, apparently, ill, and so Harry didn't think their date was going to happen and Liam sincerely hoped that it wouldn't be a hit against his ego.

Zayn didn't even answer his phone when Liam tried to call and invite him along.

“I guess it's just us,” Liam said.

“You're okay with that?” Niall asked.

“Of course,” Liam said. “We're friends.”

“Friends,” Niall repeated, and then laughed to himself, throwing his body back onto the mattress and covering his face. “You're exhausting,” he repeated. Liam chose to ignore that, acting like it didn't hurt him, for whatever reason.

“Let's go!” he said, pulling on Niall's hand. “I want to see Australia!”

  


Liam and Niall mostly did sight seeing and a little bit of shopping, but before they had to head back to the hotel in order to meet Harry for dinner, they stopped by the Sydney Harbor Bridge to look out over the edge.

“I bet this is really pretty at night time,” Niall commented.

“Maybe we can come back,” Liam said and, for the first time that Liam could recall that day, Niall smiled.

It was late by the time the two reached their room again. Harry would arrive at any minute, and so the two changed quickly, not even bothering to take their things into the bathroom and change in privacy. It wasn't like they hadn't seen each other's bodies in their dance outfits or while swimming anyway, but when Liam caught Niall staring, he gave him a knowing smirk. Niall blushed, and Liam laughed.

“Careful,” he warned teasingly. “I might start thinking you want something.”

“I do,” Niall said, and Liam jolted.

“You do?” he asked, barely managing to not get turned on right then and there.

“Yeah, but it's nothing you're interested in,” Niall said, no longer looking at Liam, but focusing intently on buttoning his shirt.

“What do you mean?” Liam asked.

“What do you think I mean, Liam?” Niall asked. Liam thought about it, and though he had a suspicion, he didn't want to think about it or go there.

“I probably don't want to know,” he said. Niall clearly held back a sigh.

“Probably not.”

“But,” Liam said slowly, his heart picking up speed, “if I was into that stuff, it would be you who I wanted to...do it with.”

Niall smiled; a small one, but still.

“Maybe someday,” he said. There was a knock on the door.

“Optimism,” Liam said lamely before turning and heading for the door, though he for some reason couldn't get the smile off of his face.

***Harry***

Though Harry had fallen asleep early in Australian time, he stayed asleep until seven in the morning, which he found quite impressive.  Maybe jet lag wouldn't hit him as hard as it hit most people. 

After checking the clock, Harry had let out a sigh and laid back down, staring up at the ceiling. He needed food, and he was going to let himself get some, but he needed to muster the energy first, which was quite a task.

When he heard a cough, something inside of him gave him enough juice to at least sit up, and he focused his bleary eyes on Louis sitting at the desk across the room, writing something onto one of the hotel's notepads. The singer sniffled and then, perhaps feeling eyes on him, looked up and smiled at Harry. 

“Good morning,” he greeted, and Harry's eyes grew wide because his voice sounded even worse than it had the previous day.

“Holy shit,” the dancer breathed.

“That bad, huh?” Louis asked, coughing into his sleeve afterward.

“You're definitely ill,” Harry said, and motioned for Louis to come over.

“I'm not ill,” Louis told him, but crawled onto the bed anyway. Harry had leaned himself against the headboard, and Louis ducked down as if to kiss him, but only puckered his lips, hinting that he did actually know that he was sick. Harry laid his hand across his forehead.

“You're burning up,” he noted.

“I'm not sick,” Louis insisted, but then fell silent as Harry placed a finger on his lips.

“Please stop,” he asked softly. “It sounds painful.”

When Louis didn't respond, Harry continued.

“Maybe I should get Beatrice or the doctor.”

Louis shook his head, Harry's finger still on his lips. When Harry lowered it, the singer took that as permission to speak.

“Are you ready for our date tonight?” he asked.

“I don't think you're going anywhere today,” Harry commented. Louis frowned.

“But I want to go on a date.”

Somehow, Harry held his breath and mustered enough energy to lay Louis down onto the pillows next to him. Of course, he didn't think the singer was fighting him about it all that much. Harry leaned down to kiss his forehead.

“I'm going to go find a thermometer,” he said.

“No,” Louis said, his voice cracking before he coughed. His red eyes started to water, so Harry thought that the cough hurt, but, still, Louis shook his head.

“They'll freak out if they think I'm sick,” he said in a whisper. He still had Harry's hand in his own.

“Maybe with good reason because if you're this way tomorrow, there's no way you'll be able to do the concert.”

“I want to go on a date,” Louis said yet again, sticking his bottom lip out slightly. Harry placed another kiss on his forehead.

“You're whiny when you're sick,” he commented endearingly.

“I'm not sick,” Louis said, pouty voice and all.

“Aww, aren't you cute?” Harry cooed, but lightly pulled himself away from Louis as he got to his feet. The room only spun a little bit.

“No, don't leave me,” Louis said, making grabby hands at the man.

“I need food,” Harry said, knowing that Louis wouldn't argue with that. “Do you feel like eating anything?” he asked.

“I'm not hungry,” Louis answered.

“Because you're si-ick!” Harry declared in a sing-song voice as he turned and began heading for the door. Louis threw a pillow at him, and it hit Harry in the head, but the dancer only laughed and turned to blow a kiss before continuing on his way.

“Nooo, my pillow!” he heard Louis cry as the hotel room door shut, but Harry didn't feel too bad, knowing there were other pillows surrounding the man, so he chuckled to himself and began walking towards the elevators.

Though Harry wanted taking care of Louis to be his number one priority, he was too shaky and dizzy to not eat before searching for a thermometer,  especially since he had no idea where to even begin. 

As luck would have it, Beatrice was in the breakfast area, so Harry approached her, thinking he had a few more minutes in him before the got to the fainting stage.

“Hello, Harry!” Beatrice greeted with a warm smile as she saw the dancer approaching. “How are you feeling?”

“I'm fine,” Harry said, because for all intents and purposes, he was. “Um, Louis is ill though.”

Beatrice's face morphed into what could only be considered horror.

“What's wrong with him?” she asked.

“He's coughing, has almost no voice and I'm pretty sure he has a fever too.”

Beatrice's mouth formed a tight line.

“I'm calling the doctor,” she announced, and whipped out her phone. Harry took that moment to grab a waffle, without adding syrup, and a cup of strawberries, and then made his way back just as she was locking her phone.

“The doctor is heading up,” the manager explained, rising to her feet.

“I'll be up there in a minute,” Harry said. “Um, how does Louis take his tea?”

Beatrice told him. Harry quickly finished his waffle and threw out the plate before getting Louis's tea and heading upstairs with that and his strawberries. He felt a little nauseated already from the waffle, but he knew he would be okay. He wasn't going to throw up on his own and he wouldn't be able to purge, but right now, that was alright He hadn't been able to weigh himself yesterday, but he would give himself a bit of a cheat day, if only to keep Louis from worrying and becoming even more ill.

Harry had again forgotten that he didn't have a way into Louis's room until he was right outside the door, so he held his cup of strawberries in his mouth and knocked. Beatrice answered, and for a quick moment, Harry was afraid that she was going to tell him to leave, though he didn't know why he'd thought that and she didn't say anything of the sort. Instead, she let him in immediately.

“Sorry,” Harry apologized anyway as he followed her around the corner to face Louis, who was laying down in bed with all of the covers pulled up to his chin. Harry wondered if that was his doing or Beatrice's. “I keep forgetting that I don't have a key.”

“Beatrice, give him yours,” Louis croaked.  “ That way you can't barge in and scare the shit of me anymore.”

“Hush,” Beatrice ordered.

“I brought you tea,” Harry said quickly, before Louis could argue with the woman, as Harry got the feeling he would.

“You're so sweet,” Louis said, taking the cup from Harry and sitting up just a bit to sip on it. Harry waited for him to finish the amount he wanted for the time being and then took the cup from him and set it on the nightstand before he sat down next to Louis, putting his legs up on the bed and leaning against the headboard. When he was settled, he popped a strawberry into his mouth.

“Want one?” he offered to Louis, who shook his head and turned so that his forehead was against Harry's bicep.  Harry rubbed his arm soothingly, and even that felt hot.

The trio was quiet and Harry thought Louis must have started to doze off because he jumped when there was a knock on the door. Beatrice answered again, and the doctor stepped in.

“Louis!” he exclaimed humorously. “It's too early in the tour for you to be falling apart on us!”

“I'm fine,” Louis said, yawning and laying his head against Harry's arm again.

“Open,” the doctor instructed, pulling out his thermometer. Louis sighed quietly, but did as he was told. The doctor was checking his pulse when the device beeped, so Harry took it upon himself to retrieve it from Louis's mouth and check the reading.

“Jesus, Louis,” he breathed.

“What?” Beatrice asked, and Harry showed her.

“What is it?” Louis asked.

“One-oh-two point two,” Harry said.

“That's not that high,” Louis said.

“Your pulse is good,” the doctor told him. “Sit up, please.”

Louis did, and Harry stood so that he could be better examined. After checking his eyes, ears, nose and throat, as per usual with doctor's visits, it was declared that Louis only had a virus.

“Just take Ibuprofen for the fever,” the professional instructed, “and drink plenty of liquids, of course. Get lots of rest. I can give you cough medicine and a numbing spray for your throat if it hurts, which I'm guessing it does by the redness of it, but other than that, it just has to work itself out.”

“Please give him anything you can,” Beatrice said. “What about the show tomorrow?”

“It's possible that he'll be well enough by then to perform, but the liquids and rest are extremely important, and I'm not just saying that as a cliché,” the doctor told them both.

“Rest, Louis,” Beatrice reiterated. “That means stay in bed.”

“I'll stay in bed until it's time for Harry and I to go on our date,” Louis said, and Beatrice looked to the dancer, who, she seemed glad to find, was shaking his head.

“No date tonight,” he said, climbing back in bed next to the singer. “You'll just have to make it up to me in the next country.”

Louis frowned and opened his mouth to say something, but Beatrice spoke before he could.

“Rest, Louis,” she said, “and for the love of God, be quiet for once in your life.”

“Rude,” Louis whispered, but the woman ignored him and looked instead to Harry.

“Please make sure he rests?”

“I will,” Harry assured her.

The doctor set Louis's prescriptions on the nightstand and Harry helped him take them after reading the correct dosage. Seeming a little more relaxed now that she was leaving Louis in Harry's care, Beatrice smiled.

“ Call me if you need anything; either of you. Alright?”

They both assured her that they would and, after telling Louis that she hoped he felt better after getting some rest (emphasis placed on that word), she left. The doctor had already seen himself out. When the door shut, Louis let out a groan.

“Why?” he asked, laying all the way down again and putting his arm around Harry's waist. Harry sucked in and straightened up, but didn't make Louis move, and took to playing with the other's hair now that his strawberries were gone.

“You poor thing,” he said, and he was teasing, kind of, but he meant it too. Whether he was dramatic about it or not, Harry didn't undermine Louis's illness.

“Maybe you shouldn't be around me,” Louis said. “You might get sick.”

“ I don't need my voice to dance anyway,” Harry said, and almost pointed out that Louis might have gotten it from him, but he was unsure now if the others had come to the conclusion that when he had been 'sick' a couple days ago, it wasn't from a cold or virus, but from the eating disorder. 

“Yeah, but you won't want to dance feeling like shit,”  Louis reasoned.

“Oh, so you're finally admitting that you don't feel good?” Harry asked.

“No,” Louis said, snuggling into Harry's side. Harry began rubbing his back.

“You're stubborn.”

“ Me? Never?”

Harry huffed out a laugh and raised Louis's hand to his lips so that he could kiss it. Louis sighed, this time in contentment.

“I'm really sorry that we might not be able to go out tonight,” he said.

“We definitely aren't going out tonight,” Harry corrected, “but it's okay. You just need to get better. Here; finish your tea.”

Louis sat up and accepted the cup from Harry. They were quiet as he drank, and he snuggled right next to Harry again once he'd finished.

“Hey, it's not in your stomach too, is it?” Harry asked, worried by the fact that Louis hadn't wanted anything to eat and had even drank the tea slowly.

“No,” Louis said. “I'm not going to puke on you, don't worry.”

“That's not what I was worried about,” Harry told him, “but that's good, at least.”

“I don't know. I've performed with a stomach bug before. I can't really perform without a voice unless I lip synch the whole thing and I am not that kind of guy.”

“How in the hell did you manage to perform with a stomach bug?” Harry wondered aloud.

“Nausea pills, though they don't do much under the hot lights, but they at least make it possible to hold back vomit until I can run backstage, throw up and go back out.”

“That's...crazy,” Harry said, and he didn't know if she was the one to blame, but Harry suddenly felt himself losing a bit of respect for Beatrice. For being such a 'mom' figure, he didn't think she should allow that.

“It's just my job,” Louis said.

“I hope you weren't sick when I saw you,” Harry commented. “I would rather you cancel a show than have to perform like that.”

“You saw me?” Louis asked, looking up curiously. Harry felt himself start to blush. Damn it.

“Um, yeah,” he said. Louis smiled.

“When?”

“A few years back, for my sixteenth birthday.”

Louis's smile grew, probably because Harry had just affirmed how much of a fan boy he'd been by admitting that tickets to Louis's show had been his birthday present. At least he hadn't told him that he'd been given backstage passes as well that he didn't use.

“Did I do well?” he asked.

“Yeah, you did awesome,” Harry assured him.

“Are you just saying that?”

“No.”

“I probably wasn't sick,” Louis said, “but even if I was, I'm glad I performed through it. It wouldn't be good for our budding relationship to cancel on you twice.”

_Relationship_ . Harry was internally screaming, but swallowed and forced the teenage fan boy down and said,

“Twice in a four year time isn't too bad, though.”

“It is when we haven't even been on a first date.”

“You're right. You're lucky you're cute.”

Louis wrinkled his nose adorably but then buried his face into the mattress and coughed a few times, loudly. Harry rubbed his back again.

“Go to sleep, super star,” he said gently once Louis had finished his fit and turned to look back at him.

“I'm not tired,” he said, his voice even more ruined than a moment ago.

“Sign your answer,” Harry instructed before asking, “Were you writing a song earlier when I woke up?”

Instead of signing, Louis just nodded, a small smile touching his face.

“What is it about?” Harry asked.

“It's a secret,” Louis answered, obeying Harry and using sign language. “I'll sing it for you when it's done.”

“I can't wait.”

With another small smile, Louis sat up.

“Do you need something?” Harry asked.

“Water,” Louis whispered, “but I've got it.”

“Nope, I'll get it,” Harry said, and Louis surprised him by not arguing, but by plopping back down onto his stomach. Hurrying to the bathroom, Harry threw out their cups from earlier and filled a new one with water before taking it to Louis. Though he had been gone all of fifteen seconds, Louis's eyes were already shut, his breathing soft. Harry smiled, taking in the other's beautiful form, before he set the cup on the nightstand and got back into his spot in bed. Though he'd been gentle, Louis jumped.

“Not tired my arse,” Harry commented as Louis sat up, and Harry handed him the water cup he'd filled.

“I have a high fever, Harry; I'm dying,” Louis  told him, still whispering.

“You went from not being ill to dying rather quickly.”

“Now that I've accepted that you won't go on a date with me anyway, I feel fully entitled to feel sorry for myself, thank you.”

“ Oh, I see.”

Louis took a drink from his cup and then handed it back to Harry and laid down again.

“Hey, I don't want to be, like...weird or annoying or anything, but was strawberries all you had for breakfast?” he asked.

“No,” Harry answered. “I ate a waffle before I came up.”

“Really?”

“I promise.”

“Okay,” Louis said, and coughed. Though he already knew that Louis had a fever, Harry felt his forehead again. He didn't seem to be cooling down any, but Harry supposed the Ibuprofen hadn't had sufficient time to kick in and so wouldn't worry about it too much yet. He moved a sweaty strand of Louis's hair from his even sweatier forehead.

“Are you hot or cold?” he asked.

“Cold right now,” Louis said, burying himself deeper into the sheets. Harry got up only to turn the heat in the room up.

“Let me know when you get hot.”

“I wish you could see how amazing you are, Harry,” Louis said, resting his head on Harry's chest when the dancer took to lying down himself. Instead of replying to that, Harry reached his arm back and felt around the nightstand until he'd grabbed onto the remote control.

“Would you like to fall asleep to a movie?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“What would you like?”

“You pick. I'll probably be out in, like, three minutes, if I'm being honest.”

“Okay, well, what genre?”

“Romantic comedy.”

Harry began searching for one.

“I love that you're cuddling me,” Louis commented, “but you don't have to if you don't want to. I know I'm sweaty and gross.”

“That's no different than how we all are after shows,” Harry reasoned. Louis coughed as Harry pulled his body closer so that the singer was nearly on top of him.

“Sorry. I just coughed on you.”

“Oh my god. Now I'm probably going to perish. Thanks.”

“Hey. Not funny. I might have the plague.”

“Let's hope we both go to the same place when we die.”

Louis laughed, but then coughed and shook his head.

“I don't like talking about you dying.”

“Then let's just not talk, yeah? My throat is starting to hurt in sympathy for yours.”

“Or you're getting sick too.”

“Nope. That's not it. Hush now, super star.”

Louis obeyed and was asleep before Harry had even picked a movie. Harry kissed his nose and closed his eyes as well, feeling more relaxed and content than he had in a while.

  


Harry never actually fell asleep, but he was fine with keeping his eyes closed and resting while listening to the movie playing in the background. In fact, the only time he opened his eyes was to check on Louis when he coughed or moaned. Sweat was starting to pour from his body, and he would sometimes roll over to get away from Harry's body heat, but he always came back, snuggling close again. Harry turned the furnace down a little bit during one of the moments where he felt he could get up without disturbing Louis, but he didn't want to make it too low because Louis needed to sweat the fever out.

When the movie reached what Harry guessed was almost its end, the dancer's phone began to ring, and it rang loudly.

“Shit,” Harry whispered, sitting up and accidentally letting Louis's head, which had been resting against his side, drop down to the pillow. The singer blinked open his eyes.

“Sorry,” Harry said, and picked up his phone. “Hey, Liam, hold on,” he said into the phone and then, covering the receiver, told Louis to go back to sleep before hurrying out into the hall.

“Were you asleep?” Liam asked once his friend had told him that he was back.

“No, I wasn't. Just Louis,” Harry said.

“Wear him out, did you?” Liam teased, and while Harry would typically roll his eyes, that time, he smiled because he felt that Liam making dirty jokes meant that he was feeling at least a bit better after whatever had been bothering him the previous day.

“He's sick,” Harry explained.

“Oh shit, that sucks,” Liam said. “How sick?”

“Pretty sick. Fever, coughing, no voice; that stuff.”

“Is the show still on for tomorrow?”

“So far, yeah.”

“What about your date?”

“That's not happening,” Harry said, and then, “Wait, how did you know? I hadn't told anyone yet.”

“Louis told Niall,” Liam explained. “I'm a little offended that you didn't tell me, though. I thought I was your best mate.”

“You are,” Harry assured him. “I just wanted to save myself embarrassment if Louis canceled.”

“Like he would do that,” Liam said. “Well, I guess he did, but he has a good excuse right now.”

“Actually he was still going to take me,” Harry said. “Beatrice and I said no.”

“I'm sorry, mate.”

“It's okay,” Harry told him, and he meant it. He figured anyone else would be disappointed, and it wasn't that Harry had wanted their date to be canceled, but he had already half expected it not to happen and he was relieved that the reason they weren't going was because of Louis's illness and not because he had changed his mind.

“I'm sure he'll take you out once he's better,” Liam said.

“Maybe,” Harry said, mostly believing that Louis would but still wanting to be cautious.

“Well, since Louis's bedridden, do you want to come out with Niall and me?” Liam asked.

“I don't know,” Harry said. “I don't really want to leave him.”

“That's sweet and all, Harry, but I'm pretty sure he can take care of himself for a few hours. Don't you want to explore Australia?”

“I don't know.”

“At least come to dinner with us tonight,” Liam urged. Harry fought off panic just at the word 'dinner' and reminded himself that he was allowed to eat that day.

“Okay,” he agreed.

“Awesome!” Liam said. “Come to Niall's room at about...Uh...Hey, Niall, what time do you want to leave for dinner?”

Harry heard Niall reply, though couldn't understand what he was saying, and smiled to himself. He chose not to tell Liam how domestic the two were being.

“Come to Niall's room at, like, six thirty,” Liam decided.

“Okay.”

“See you later then, mate. Tell Louis I hope he feels better.”

“I will. See you. Have fun today.”

The two hung up and Harry re-entered the room using the key Beatrice had left for him. He had hoped that Louis had been able to fall right back to sleep after being jarred awake, but the singer was shirtless and sitting in front of the air conditioning unit, blasting cold air out at himself. Harry swiped the thermometer that the doctor had left on the nightstand and approached Louis, who surprisingly let Harry take his temperature without argument.

“It's still a little above one hundred,” Harry noted.

“I'm okay,” Louis said before giving a painful sounding cough. “I'm going to get a shower though.”

Moving to sit on the edge of the bed, the singer said,

“You should go out and do something today though. Laying in bed with me all day has got to be boring.”

“I'm not bored,” Harry assured him, “but I'm going to dinner with Liam and Niall later.”

Louis smiled.

“Good,” he said.

“Are you hungry yet?” Harry asked. Louis shook his head while coughing into his sleeve. Harry frowned.

“Do you think you should go ahead and cancel the show for tomorrow?” he asked, feeling as if Beatrice would probably give him a good whack upside the head if she heard him suggest such a thing.

“No,” Louis said. “I'll be alright.”

Harry wasn't quite sure about that, but he didn't say a word, and Louis dug through his bag until he found a clean pair of shorts before going to shower. While he was in the bathroom, Gemma sent Harry a text telling him that he'd better give her the details of their date as soon as possible. Harry decided to break the news to her later and hope that she deemed Louis's sickness a good enough reason to not set his tour bus on fire.

When Louis exited the bathroom in just his pair of shorts, Harry couldn't help but to let his eyes roam over his body briefly.

“I don't know why Dean is so hard on you,” he commented as Louis climbed onto the sheets and laid on his side so that he could keep eye contact with Harry. “You're perfect.”

“First off, I'm not perfect,” Louis said. “And secondly, I don't want you to think about that stuff anymore, alright? There's more to a person than what they look like.”

Harry nodded.

“Sorry.”

“No need for apologies,” Louis assured him. “Another movie now?”

  


Once late afternoon rolled around, Harry showered and got himself made up to go to dinner. He'd skipped lunch, not purposely, so his stomach was growling. It was going to be a struggle to not eat too much with being so hungry on his 'cheat day,' but at least the others would be there, and Harry was sure that they would be watching him closely now that they knew the history of his eating disorder. He wouldn't want to look like a complete pig in front of them, so he would be able to muster enough self control to stick to a salad and maybe a piece of chicken.

“Have fun,” Louis said with a small smile as Harry prepared to leave.

“I will,” Harry assured him. “Do you want me to bring you back anything?”

“Um...yeah, sure. You can decide what. I'm not picky. My wallet is in the safe in the closet and the code is 1991.”

“Why would I need your wallet?” Harry asked, not sure if Louis was dumb by letting some guy get into his wallet or if he just really trusted Harry. He _could_ trust Harry, of course, but Harry didn't think he would be so trusting if he was in Louis's place.

“For the food,” Louis explained, like it should have been obvious, and Harry rolled his eyes.

“I've got it,” he said. “I'm not _that_ poor. I can pay for your dinner.”

“You don't have to do that...”

“I know. It's fine, okay?”

Harry knew that Louis was obviously several times richer than he was, but he didn't want that to come into their so-called relationship. If Louis was just an average guy, Harry would take turns paying for things with him, and so that's what he was going to do even though Louis was a super successful pop star.

Luckily, Louis didn't press the issue and, after giving his cheek a kiss and reminding him to take his medicine in a couple of hours, Harry went to Niall's room.

  


The food was much too easy for Harry to eat. There wasn't much fat content since he had stuck to his chicken and salad idea, but it went down his throat so easily that Harry had to force himself to slow down and reminded himself that he couldn't get used to this. Once eating became easy, he would want to do it all the time and the struggle to stay in shape would be ten times worse.

Over all, though, he did have fun at dinner, even if he did feel a bit like a third wheel. Niall and Liam didn't do anything to make him feel that way, of course, but with the way the two were giggling at each other and stealing bites of food from the other's plate, it felt like they were on a date and that Harry was simply an observer. He didn't mind, though, because Liam looked happy, even though he agreed to sharing a dessert with Niall while insisting they had to use separate plates. Niall had rolled his eyes, but his smile hadn't faltered. Harry wasn't sure why Liam was the way he was, and he didn't know if Niall had any idea or not, but Niall's patience with him was admirable. One day, Harry hoped Liam realized how good Niall would be for him and would let him in all the way.

By the time Harry got back to the hotel, it was dark. The lights were off when he entered Louis's room, so he tiptoed to the bed area and set his things softly on the nightstand. Then he leaned across the bed, planning to, very gently feel Louis's skin for a fever, but he was faced with only cold sheets. Panicking, though he didn't know why, Harry flipped on the light. Instead of Louis in his bed, a bouquet of roses lay on his pillow. Harry assumed they were a get well gift from someone, but he lifted the flowers to read the note attached to them anyway.

_Tiny dancer,_

_Please join me in my tour bus when you return. I missed you!_

_x_ _xxLouisxxx_

Harry's cheeks nearly hurt from how wide he was smiling, and he picked the bag with Louis's food up from the nightstand before hurrying outside to the buses. Louis's bus was dark, but there was a small, strange light on the inside, so, curious, Harry made his way over. The doors were open, so he let himself on.

“Louis?” he called, but he saw the other as soon as he rounded the corner, laying in a sleeping bag. The light, he saw, came from a small machine, projecting stars and other constellations onto the roof of the bus. Harry's mouth dropped open.

“This is the best I could do,” Louis said in a whisper.

“It's beautiful,” Harry said after using another moment to take in the atmosphere.

“You're beautiful,” Louis commented. Harry looked to him and saw a soft smile on his pale face. He looked better than he had earlier, though was still clearly sick, but Harry swore that he had never seen him look as wonderful as he did now.

“You're gorgeous,” the dancer replied, getting onto his knees beside Louis.

“There's room in here,” Louis said, holding out the edges of the sleeping bag. Harry climbed in and Louis rested his head on his shoulder once he was situated.

“Do you know anything about the stars?” the singer asked.

“Not much,” Harry replied. “I know that one's Aquarius.”

Louis looked to where he was pointing and hummed.

“Is that your sign?” he asked.

“Yeah. And yours is Capricorn, so you're right...there.”

Harry pointed again and Louis looked while snuggling closer to Harry.

“You know more about them than I do. All I know is that they're pretty.”

Harry gave a small laugh.

“There's Lyra, the harp,” he said as he pointed out that one.

“I like that one,” Louis commented. For a few moments, the two just laid there, admiring the stars' images, and then Harry kissed the top of Louis's head.

“Do you want your food?” he asked. Louis nodded, sitting up and leaning against the nearby couch.

“I brought soup because, well, obviously, it's the easiest thing to eat when you're sick, but I'm sure you're starving by now so I also brought a couple of biscuits if you want them and a brownie for dessert.”

“You are amazing,” Louis commented as he placed the food in front of him. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome. Are you feeling any better?”

Louis nodded.

“I think we could have gone on our date,” he said.

“I don't quite agree with that,” Harry told him, “but we are on our date, really.”

“This isn't a date,” Louis said.

“Why not?”

“It's just my tour bus.”

“So? There's starlight; real and projected, there's food and there's me and you.”

“And music,” Louis added before picking up a remote and turning on some soft piano melodies. Harry smiled.

“This is definitely a date.”

Louis smiled and sipped on his soup. Harry was quiet as he let him eat and when Louis decided he was finished, the singer turned off the music.

“Okay, I want to play you something now,” he said.

“Oh?” Harry asked curiously.

“Yeah. I mean, I can't sing, obviously, but I finished the song I was writing earlier so I'll show you the chords.”

Getting to his feet, Louis threw away his trash and then went to the bunk area of his bus. He returned only a few seconds later, guitar in hand. He sat on the couch and patted the seat next to him, inviting Harry to do the same, so he did.

“I don't know how exciting this will be without lyrics, but...”

Louis shrugged, took a couple moments to get himself situated with the instrument and then began to play.

It was a simple song, Harry felt, but that didn't mean that it wasn't good, because it was. Though he had no idea still what the song was about or how he was supposed to feel listening to it, he felt that, while simple, it was deep too, and he felt happy listening to it, but sad at the same time. All of these things were contradictory, he knew, but that was how Harry felt.

“That was beautiful,” Harry told him once he'd finished, and then he had to clear his throat. Louis gave a small smile.

“Thank you,” he said. “Once I have my voice back and can practice it a few times, I'm thinking of performing it.”

“I think you should.”

Again, Louis smiled, but then he sighed.

“I was supposed to be able to kiss you on our first date,” he said. Harry wanted to tell him that he still could, but knew deep down that Louis wouldn't risk it, so the dancer kissed his own fingertips and then placed them on Louis's lips. Louis smiled.

“You're such an amazing kisser,” he commented. Harry laughed.

“This was perfect,” he told the singer. “Thank you.”

“You deserve the best,” Louis commented, and then yawned as he set his guitar by his feet. Being careful not to step on the instrument, Harry stood and held out his hand.

“Bed time?” he asked.

“Want to sleep under the stars?” Louis asked, taking his hand.

“That sounds lovely.”

The two climbed into the sleeping bag.

“Oh,” Louis commented after lying there for a couple minutes, jolting himself from the light sleep he'd already been in. “I brought you something more comfortable to wear. It's back on the bed.”

“Oh, perfect,” Harry said. He had just been contemplating whether sneaking away from Louis to change was worth it. “I'll be right back.”

Louis's bed was, truly, a bed; no bunk, but a true double bed. Yet, he still spent more time on Harry's bus with the others and was currently out laying in a sleeping bag so they could 'sleep under the stars.'

Harry couldn't stop smiling as he changed.

Louis had gotten up to close the bus doors, but was still already asleep by the time Harry crawled back into the sleeping bag with him, so Harry kissed his shoulder lightly, laid his head down and whispered,

“Good night, Lou. And thank you.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this update is late!!! 
> 
> Also, I keep forgetting to mention that in this story, Mark Tomlinson is Louis's biological father and he is Jay's only child. No offense to any of them (except Louis's true biological father, who is too much of a dick to be included in the story, even as a bad father :))))
> 
> Aaaand also, Harry's parents are still married in the story. Again, no offense to anyone! It just goes better with the character dynamics of this particular story to have things this way.

***Louis***

When Louis started to wake, before he opened his eyes, he was at first confused as to where he was and who exactly was holding him so tightly. The memory came back to him quickly, of course. He was on his tour bus, under his fake, projected constellations, and warm in Harry's hold after their not-date, which the dancer kept insisting was a date.

Well, he hoped that it was Harry who was holding him, at least.

Louis smiled when he opened his eyes to find out that it was, indeed, Harry who was snuggling with him tight, still asleep but keeping himself wrapped around Louis like he was an oversized teddy bear. Honestly, Louis didn't know how much more he could fall for Harry before he hit the ground and exploded into butterflies or rainbows or whatever happy people in love exploded into.

Though Louis loved being in Harry's arms and wished it were possible to stay there all day, he was too hot and thirsty, and had to pee too bad, to really be comfortable. He waited a few minutes, but when Harry gave no indication that he was going to wake anytime soon, Louis was left with not much choice but to snake himself out of Harry's hold. At his absence, a small frown formed on Harry's face and he made a face before groaning, smacking his lips and turning over to become still again. Louis let out a quiet breath and made his way to the bathroom, taking off his slightly sweaty shirt and throwing it on the ground before taking care of business. Once he was through, he went to the fridge to get a water bottle and drank about half before using the rest to take his medicine. He thought he'd sweated out all of the fever last night, but he took Ibuprofen just in case, and Harry rolled over and blinked open his eyes as Louis was washing down the last pill.

Harry's bleary eyes focused on Louis as the singer finished the rest of the water bottle and placed it on the counter (just until he could get it to a recycling bin,) and he smiled sleepily as he rubbed one eye. Louis hoped that he could wake up with Harry for the rest of the tour, and then after as well.

“Good morning,” Harry said, his voice still gravelly. “How are you feeling?”

Before answering, Louis cleared his throat and swallowed, trying to prepare his voice but afraid for what sound was going to come out.

“Better,” he answered simply, relieved that his voice was mostly back. He did feel a lot better too; not one hundred percent, but he would take it.

Harry stood, stretching his arms to the side and then above his head before approaching Louis and laying his hand across his forehead.

“You still feel a little warm,” he noted.

“I just took Ibuprofen so if there's any fever left, it should be gone soon,” Louis assured him. Harry nodded, still looking so sleepy, and he put his arms around Louis's waist, seemingly without even a second thought. He'd come so far from the Harry that Louis first met, but Louis admired both of them the same anyway.

“Are you hungry?” Harry asked.

“I'm starving,” Louis said. “I have breakfast food on the bus so we don't have to venture into the hotel just yet. Well, by breakfast food, I mean cereal, but...Are you hungry?”

Harry paused, his head tilting to the side a bit before he answered.

“A little.”

Louis turned, opening the cupboard which he knew to hold the cereal. Harry's hands didn't slip from his waist; just readjusted their position. Louis was glad that his back was turned to the dancer now because his smile was ridiculous.

“Um...Cookie Crisp, Crunchy Nut or this disgusting wheat shit…Seriously, Beatrice? Why did you even bother?”

“Actually, I'll take the disgusting wheat shit,” Harry said, and Louis turned to give him a look of pure horror. Harry laughed.

“It's not that bad,” he said.

“It's not Cookie Crisp,” Louis pointed out, but handed Harry his preferred cereal anyway. He supposed he could still love Harry even if he had shit taste in breakfast foods.

When Harry chose to eat the cereal milk-less, however, Louis couldn't help but to make an exaggerated gagging sound. Not offended, Harry laughed again.

“I think they're good,” he said.

“I think you're lying to yourself, but, hey, whatever you choose to put in your body is up to you, love.”

At least he was putting some form of nourishment into his body, Louis thought.

“Is the show still on for tonight?” Harry asked after the two had taken a few bites of their cereal.

“Definitely, which I should probably tell Beatrice. She's probably freaking out.”

“Yeah, she probably is,” Harry agreed. Louis grabbed his phone from its spot next to him at the table and found his tour manager's number, continuing to eat as he waited for an answer.

“Louis! Darling, how are you feeling?” Beatrice asked, and the tone in her voice confirmed that she had, indeed, been panicking. Louis huffed out a laugh.

“I'm fine,” he assured the woman. “Listen to how lovely my voice sounds! La la la la laaaaa!”

“That was torturous,” Beatrice spoke of Louis's attempt at opera, “but you do sound much better, in general. Are you going to be good for tonight?”

“Yep, all good.”

“Thank god,” she breathed. “You still need to rest your voice today until the show, Louis, do you understand?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“And drink lots of tea.”

“Well that actually is not a problem.”

“Good. I'm glad you're feeling better.”

“Thanks, Bumble Bee.”

Beatrice sighed. Louis smiled.

“Also, call your mum,” the woman added. “She was quite worried about you when she found out that you were ill.”

“You told her?” Louis asked after loudly groaning.

“Yes. Now call her, but please make it quick.”

“I'll call when I get done eating.”

“Perfect. I'll see you soon.”

The two hung up and Louis continued on with his breakfast, deciding to call his mother after. That was a conversation that he didn't particularly want to have in front of Harry. He loved his mother with all of his heart, but she tended to sometimes treat him as a primary school child and that could get rather embarrassing.

“How is your horse food?” Louis asked Harry.

“Horse food?” he asked, one eyebrow quirking up in amusement.

“That's what that stuff reminds me of; horse food.”

Again, Harry laughed and shook his head at Louis.

“You're mean.”

“I say all of this with the utmost respect for you.”

Harry smiled, dimples popping out fully, so, of course, Louis had to smile as well, even wider.

Louis finished his food before Harry; probably because Harry's was disgusting and he was too stubborn to admit it, but no matter. The singer excused himself, put on a jacket and stepped outside to Facetime his mom.

“Hey, baby,” she greeted with a wide smile as soon as she'd accepted his call. Louis smiled back.

“Hi, mum.”

“How are you feeling?” the woman asked, her smile fading just as quickly as it had come. “You look pale, Louis. Do you still have a fever?”

“I'm good, mum,” Louis said. “I feel a lot better.”

“I think you should cancel the show,” she said. “You need rest.”

“You know I won't do that.”

“I know,” the woman sighed. “But you know I really don't like it.”

Louis did. His wonderful mother had the tendency to freak out when anything was even the least bit wrong with her son, but Louis understood. They'd been all each other had and then Louis had shot to fame, leaving her behind. He knew that she wished she could go on tour with him-and she could; Louis wasn't stopping her-but she refused to leave her job and have her child take care of her.

“I won't keep you long,” Louis's mom added. “You still shouldn't talk much, probably, but when am I going to see you, baby?”

“You see me now.”

The woman narrowed her eyes.

“I mean in person, which you know quite well, Louis William.”

Louis laughed and made a kiss sound, puckering his lips.

“You know you can come to any show you like,” he added, seriously. “I'll fly you to any show you want.”

“I need to come to one soon,” she said. “I need to meet this new boy of yours!”

Louis smiled, causing a high-pitched 'awww' to come from his mother.

“Why did I have to learn of this from the media though?!” she asked then.

“It all happened really quick,” Louis answered. “Like...super quick. I'm sorry. You're going to like Harry though.”

It was at that moment that Louis heard footsteps coming from the bus and Harry stepped out. Louis gave him a smile to try to ease his apparent worry.

“If he makes you happy then of course I will,” the woman said, oblivious to the fact that Louis's attention had just been temporarily drawn from her.

“He does,” Louis said. “Anyway, mum, I love you, but I should probably go.”

“Yes, get inside, where it's warm!” she demanded. “And rest your voice. I'll see you soon.”

“Just let me know when.”

“I will. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Louis disconnected the call and then looked back to Harry, smiling again.

“Sorry, I wasn't trying to eavesdrop,” Harry said, that same worried look still on his face. “I was just going back to the room to shower and...um…Yeah, I should have waited. I'm sorry.”

“It's okay. I know you weren't eavesdropping,” he said, and then switched to sign language to tell Harry that he was on vocal rest.

“Probably for the best,” Harry spoke out loud. “Are you coming in the hotel or going back on the bus?”

Louis nodded to the hotel, shutting the doors to the bus before he and Harry headed in, hand-in-hand. Louis wasn't sure who initiated the contact because he wasn't even sure when they'd first touched. Either way, they were touching and Louis loved it.

Naturally, the first thing that Harry did upon entering the bedroom was take Louis's temperature-it was just a bit above ninety-nine-and then get him some tea as well as juice. He still looked so genuinely concerned about Louis, who only had a virus and was going to recover quickly, and Louis just really wished that he cared for himself as much as he did others.

***Harry***

Though he was worried about Louis going on with the show, he knew it would do no good to say anything about it. As Louis had said, this was his job and he clearly took it very seriously. He was willing to risk his health, comfort and maybe even safety to perform for his fans, and Harry didn't like it, but as long as Louis allowed him to try to nurse him back to health offstage, he supposed he was going to have to be fine with it.

While Louis was busy with his meet-and-greet session, Harry and Niall sat a bit away; close enough to hear the chatter and occasional squeals, but not in a spot where they could be seen or heard themselves.

“You know, you should go out there too,” Niall said, a teasing smile on his face.

“Why would I do that?” Harry asked.

“Because most of them are your fans too now.”

“They're not my fans,” Harry said flatly. “I don't have fans.”

“Hold on,” Niall said, and then pulled out his phone. He scrolled through quickly until he found what he wanted and then cleared his throat. “Alright, and I quote, 'OMG, definitely Louis's hottest boyfriend!'

'Where can I get one of those?'

'Holy shit, oh my god, he's so beautiful! I really wish those two could reproduce, damn!'

'How much do you think they would leak their sex tape for?' Hey, wanna bet Liam posted that one?”

“Okay, enough,” Harry said, his cheeks burning. “Where is Liam, by the way?” he asked, and he was just trying to change the subject, but he should have known better because Niall's smile faltered.

“Hanging around the meet-and-greet, of course,” he mumbled. Harry felt himself growing a little angry at his friend because both he and Niall had been so happy at the restaurant last night. Liam had even ignored the cute waiter to give his full attention to Niall and, kind of, to Harry, but mostly to Niall. He clearly liked Niall in some way that went beyond 'friends' and even beyond 'fuck buddies,' and Harry didn't know why he kept insisting on hurting himself and Niall instead of just admitting that.

“Anyway, if he can go out, you definitely can,” Niall spoke when he had been met with only silence.

“I'm not going out there,” Harry said, and the words were barely out of his mouth before three security guards ran past them, along with a medic. Harry's heart dropped and he and Niall both looked to each other, Niall looking worried and Harry probably horrified. Then, without a word, Harry went against the very statement he'd just made and ran towards the guards, who were heading to Louis. Niall followed behind.

It took him no time at all to reach the meet-and-greet, but it seemed for the longest time as if he was moving but making no progress. Something had to be wrong with Louis. He was sick, so he must have fainted or something, unless the worse option occurred and someone had hurt him.

Harry was fully convinced that whatever happened would lead to Louis being in a hospital, and so was relieved when he finally reached the session and saw the singer standing, fully alert, with a couple guards around him, but not having to support him in the slightest. His comfort didn't last long, though, because then he took in what was actually going on.

The first thing he noticed after realizing that Louis was okay was that, while Louis had two guards surrounding him, Liam had three guards holding him back, and he looked murderous. Next, he noticed more guards pulling on another man, who was squirming harshly against their hold, looking just as angry. Niall immediately went to Liam's side as the stranger yelled,

“Let him go! Let him at me! He can't fight! He's just another weak little fag! Let him go!”

“Shut the fuck up, you grotty wanker!” Liam yelled back, and Harry saw Niall jump, one hand reaching out to touch Liam's arm, but the other didn't even notice. “I'll beat you to a bloody fucking pulp and bathe you in my gay, diseased spit! Let's go!”

The fans in line gasped, along with Harry, and Beatrice rushed forward, attempting to shush Liam while rubbing his back soothingly, but Harry wasn't sure that his friend noticed her either.

“You can't hurt me!” the stranger continued on. “I bet you hit like a fairy! Wait, you are one!”

Looking at Louis, he added,

“You're all pathetic fairies.”

“Hey, you're the one who bought backstage passes, buddy, so if you spent all that money just to tell me something that I've heard a thousand times over, I think the joke is on you,” Louis said nonchalantly, and Harry didn't know how he was being so calm because he was with Liam now in his desire to beat this man. Instead of joining in the fight, though, Harry simply made his way to be next to Louis.

“Maybe if you didn't spend all of your free time choking on dicks, you wouldn't have to be on vocal rest before your pathetic shows,” the guy said, glaring at Louis, who laughed.

“Hey, that was actually a good one,” he allowed.

“You're the pathetic one, dick head!” Liam shouted as another guard joined in the mission to drag the unknown man out. “Maybe if you got laid, you'd be a little less anal, you fucking-”

“Liam, let it go,” Louis said. “He's not worth your energy.”

“You're all going to Hell!” the guy said; his last statement before he was literally thrown from the building.

Harry found his legs moving towards Louis, and he ignored the gasps that followed as the guards surrounding the singer parted only to let him through.

“What happened?” he asked, gently touching Louis's side, but Liam's voice interrupted anything Louis may have said.

“Let go of me!” he yelled, using all of his strength to bust away from the guards and Niall. Harry was afraid that he was going to run after the man and actually try to do what he'd threatened earlier, but instead, he just stormed in the opposite direction. Niall and one guard ran after him.

“Uh...that happened,” Louis said, and shook his head. “I'll explain later.”

“Listen up!” Beatrice yelled, her voice ringing effortlessly amongst the group. “I am very sorry that you all had to witness that. We do our best to provide a safe, loving, fun environment for everybody, but, unfortunately, some things are out of our control.'

'I am going to be taking Louis away for a moment, but please, do not go anywhere. We will be right back.”

Beatrice signaled something to the guards and in the next instant, Louis and Harry were being forced to walk and follow the woman. Amongst the chatter and buzz coming from the fans, Harry heard his name and instinctively looked. That caused another collective gasp and, as a flash went off, Harry heard the meet-and-greet manager remind everyone that outside pictures were not permitted. Quickly, Louis moved to Harry's other side and nudged him over to keep him more hidden. The singer kept his hand on Harry's back, which was probably the only thing keeping him from having an anxiety attack, as it gave him something positive to focus on.

The men were led to Louis's empty dressing room, and after they had all entered, Beatrice shut the door and turned to Louis, looking as if she might cry.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I'm fine, Bumble Bee,” Louis assured her, managing a small smile. Harry wanted to again ask exactly what happened but knew that he had to be patient.

Louis turned to Harry.

“Are you alright?” he questioned.

“I'm fine,” Harry said. “I still don't even know what happened, so...”

It was at that moment that Louis's door flew open dramatically and in stepped Liam, looking no calmer than before. All of them jumped.

“I'll tell you what happened,” Liam said, giving Harry the impression he had been listening at the door for a minute. “Some homophobic prick decided that it would be a good idea to come to an openly gay singer's show just to tell him that he's a...he's a...”

“We were there,” Beatrice reminded the dancer gently, putting an arm on his shoulder, most likely to let him know that he didn't have to repeat the word which had so offended him.

“It's okay, Liam,” Louis said calmly.

“No it's not!” Liam insisted.

“Okay, you're right,” Louis decided, “but I'm used to it and it doesn't bother me anymore. I'm sorry that you were involved and that it upset you, though.”

“There isn't anything wrong with being gay!” Liam exclaimed, as if someone had just said that there was.

“We all know that, dear,” Beatrice told him in her softest voice as she moved to pull Liam into her arms. He surprised Harry by hugging her back. Beatrice didn't back off until Liam did and then she placed a motherly kiss on his forehead.

“There are just hateful people in this world, and if there is a God, then they will have to face judgment someday. If there isn't, then they will get bitten hard by karma in their lifetime.”

He didn't know why, but Harry felt a little choked up at that point and wrapped an arm around Louis's waist for both of their comforts, since he wasn't completely convinced that the event hadn't affected him at all. Louis turned his head to place a kiss onto Harry's bicep.

“Are you really okay?” Harry whispered, though was sure the others could hear if they tried. Louis simply gave a smile and a nod.

Turning away from Liam, Beatrice looked to the singer as she spoke again.

“Do you feel alright to finish the meet-and-greet?”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Louis said like any other option would have been ridiculous. “Can I say something to the fans though?”

“Sure. We'll get you a microphone so you don't strain your voice.”

Louis nodded and then looked to Harry, his facial expression suddenly much less serious.

“Are you going to be joining?” he asked.

“I'll stand off to the side,” Harry said, and even though it made him nervous to be out there, it made his anxiety worse if he thought of leaving Louis. In reality, he knew he couldn't do much, should something happen again. His guards would do a much better job at protecting Louis's physical well-being than Harry would be able to do, but he hoped that he would at least provide some emotional support. Still, not wanting to be a burden, he added, “Unless you don't want me around, and then, um, I don't have to join...”

“I always want you around,” Louis told him with a warm smile that Harry could physically feel.

The guards, who had been waiting around quietly and patiently for their okay to get things going again, led Beatrice, Louis and Harry back to the group of eagerly awaiting fans after someone had grabbed a microphone for the singer to speak into. When the fans saw him approaching again, screams and cheers filled the entire backstage area. Louis smiled and, despite what had just happened to him, it was a genuine smile. It even crinkled his eyes, and when Louis turned to give Harry one last look, the grin grew, and Harry nearly stopped dead in his tracks as his heart gave a hard thump. Harry had already fallen in love with Louis's smile a while ago, but at that seemingly random moment, he fell in love with Louis too.

Though Harry didn't actually stop dead in his tracks, he must have slowed down because the man who was guarding them from the back walked straight into the dancer. Both apologized and then assured the other that they were fine as Beatrice motioned for Harry to follow her to a couple of chairs sitting nearby. Louis took his place in front of the fans, visible yet still properly guarded.

“Hey, everyone!” the singer said, and the cheers grew. When they had grown a bit quieter, Louis continued. “I'm really sorry about what just happened, and I would like to thank my staff as well as the stadium staff for being amazing during it. Thank you to you all too, of course, for remaining calm and sticking around while I took a moment to process what just happened. I'm fine, and I hope that you all are as well because I'm sure what that bloke was saying was quite offensive to a lot of you also. This is going to sound like a whole lot of cheese, but I mean this; you are all wonderful and perfect just how you are. Please try not to let anyone make you feel bad for being yourself.”

Louis gave them just a moment to take in what he'd just said before clapping his hands together and smiling again.

“Okay! Thank you all for the support, with all of my heart. How about we get back to the meet-and-greet now, yeah?”

Watching Louis with his fans was a truly heartwarming experience. Many were too excited to really know what to do with themselves and, while they were clearly embarrassed, Louis did his best to make sure that they knew they were not being judged by him and that he truly appreciated them. He took as much time as he could with each one and gave every single person hugs (Harry was starting to understand how he'd become so sick), and the fans that had clearly been affected by the previous homophobic outburst received extra long and tight embraces. Harry didn't know how someone like Louis was real, and he found himself wondering what would have happened if he had used the backstage passes he'd been given for his birthday all those years ago.

As the fans exited the building once their session was over, they had to pass Harry and almost every single one said hello. Harry always waved, smiled and said hello back, and even though it was all weird to him, the smile was genuine because these people had helped make Louis's dream come true and continuously made him happy, so Harry loved them too.

Once the last fan had exited, the team began cheering over another (mostly) successful meet-and-greet session. Louis was, naturally, smiling, but gently pushed his way from security to walk to Harry, who had risen to his feet.

“You okay, love?” Louis asked, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist and tilting his head in concern. Harry gave him a reassuring smile, wanting to pull him even closer, but straightening up and sucking in instead.

“I'm good,” he assured the other. “How are you?”

“I'm great,” Louis said, and then stood on his tiptoes to place a kiss to Harry's lips. “Dinner time?”

Locking their hands together, Louis led Harry away. It was only as they neared the dinner area that Harry slowed and told Louis that he wasn't very hungry. It was the truth, as he was still trying to digest the fact that he was in love with Louis.

“You sure you're good?” Louis asked, facing Harry with one eyebrow up. Harry offered a smile.

“I'm completely fine,” he assured him. “It's nothing to do with...I'm just not hungry, honestly.”

Louis nodded, looking unsure for a few moments before speaking.

“I'm not really hungry either,” he admitted, causing Harry to frown.

“I don't like that you have to perform when you're not feeling well,” he said, kissing Louis's forehead after a short, yet fierce internal debate. He had already done far more than give Louis a simple kiss on the forehead, but it felt different now that he knew he loved him, and that Louis most likely didn't feel the same way. In the end, he decided to still go for it because Louis couldn't feel the way Harry's heart raced and his entire being warmed at the simplest touches now.

“I'm fine, Harry,” Louis said, a tired smile forming before he gave a yawn.

“Hi, boys!” Beatrice called from the distance as she quickly approached, and then gave each of the men a hug. “Are you two okay?”

When they assured her that they were fine, the tour manager nodded, looking somewhat relaxed but still tense. Harry thought the earlier ordeal may have bothered her more than it had Louis.

“Dinner is ready,” Beatrice said then. “Go on and eat and then, Harry, when you're finished, wardrobe will need you.”

“We're not really hungry, Bee,” Louis spoke, and the woman narrowed her eyes.

“You have to eat a little bit anyway,” she said. “I don't want anyone passing out onstage.”

Harry wasn't sure, but he thought her eyes lingered on him as she made the last remark, though it could have been all in his head. He hoped it was, at least.

Knowing it would be pointless to argue with the woman, Louis and Harry helped themselves to a bit of dinner. Harry hid most of his in his napkin, because he'd felt sick from the very first bite he took from how full he really was, but when Louis barely touched his food, the dancer grew worried again. He told Louis as much.

“Really?” Louis asked flatly, looking down the bridge of his nose. “You're going to worry about my eating habits?”

“If you can worry about mine when I'm fine then I can worry about yours when you're sick,” Harry said, not bothered by Louis's reaction.

“I'm fine, love,” Louis said softly, and bumped Harry's foot with his own as he put another forkful of food into his mouth.

  


Harry had been afraid that his costume was going to fit too snugly that night since he'd eaten more the previous day than he'd been used to recently and had gotten basically no exercise, but he was pleasantly surprised to find that his costume wasn't small on him at all. In fact, it was gaping in certain areas.

“Honey, did you lose weight?” the head stylist asked and Harry tried not to smile. It was probably very abnormal how much he loved that question; at least when it was coming from someone who was unaware of his past.

“I don't think so,” Harry said.

“Hmm,” the woman hummed. “Well, we'll get it all hemmed up later, but I have everything in place for now. Go eat some more dinner, will you? We can't make your outfits much smaller.”

Harry just gave a laugh, flitting out of the room like he was walking on clouds.

As he passed the bathrooms, he paused, doing a double take at the doors. Nobody was around. It would be so easy for him to push open the doors, lock himself in a stall and make himself sick. He didn't necessarily need to. He'd stayed under his limits at dinner and his costume had grown too big on him, alerting him that he was doing something right, but now that he had that confirmation, he was terrified of ruining all his work. More than that, he wanted to keep progressing.

With one last glance around, Harry entered the bathroom.

When he was done, Harry felt relief.

While he was at the sink, washing his hands, Zayn entered. Harry gave him a smile, and perhaps it was too big or something, because Zayn frowned in returned.

“You alright, mate?” he asked.

“Yeah, I'm good, thanks,” Harry said. “Are you excited for tonight?”

“Um, yeah, I guess,” Zayn said, giving Harry one last strange look before going to take care of business. It was all Harry could do to not whistle as he dried his hands because Zayn and his other friends may know all about his past and Louis's fans may soon know of him as Louis's boyfriend or whatever they were calling him; they would know his name, where he went to school and other small details about him, but this, perhaps dangerous, secret was all Harry's.

***Liam***

“Liam, calm down! Come here!” Niall called behind Liam as he ran outside, chasing after him, but Liam was really not in the mood to hear anymore 'it will be ok's' or other words that should be comforting but were empty.

“Leave me alone!” he called back.

“'Alone' is the last thing you need to be right now!” Niall said, hopping onto the tour bus after Liam and both ignoring the curious stare that the driver was giving them. Liam flung open the refrigerator, pulling out a can of beer. Niall outwardly groaned.

“Are you really drinking before the show?”

In response, Liam took a huge swig, looking directly into Niall's pretty blue eyes, which he rolled.

“Stop, Liam,” he sighed, snatching the beer away from Liam almost effortlessly.

“Hey!” Liam shouted, and made a grab for his beverage, but Niall moved it out of his reach.

“This is ridiculous,” the Irishman said. “You don't need to hurt yourself every time you get upset.”

“I'm not hurting myself!”

“What is this then?” Niall asked, shaking the can enough to slosh a bit out onto his hand. Liam wondered what Niall would do if he licked it off. He decided not to try it.

“That would be beer,” Liam answered. “People drink beer all the time, Niall.”

“People drink beer, but if they do it all the time or as a coping mechanism, then it's a sign of alcohol-”

“I'm not an alcoholic!” Liam said harshly, moving forward quickly to grab onto both of Niall's shoulders. Niall gasped, the can of beer falling right out of his hands and onto the floor, but neither looked down even though Liam could feel the liquid seeping into his shoes. He didn't care. The guilt and shame welled up in him strongly, almost sending him to the ground, but he stayed upright and instead backed up quickly until he hit his back on the counter.

“I'm so sorry,” he gasped, barely able to breathe.

“What are you apologizing for?” Niall asked. “I'm the one who spilled the beer.”

Niall moved around Liam to grab some paper towels and Liam flinched as if Niall had been the wrongdoer and not him.

“I hurt you,” Liam pointed out as Niall placed the paper towels on the ground and attempted to sop up the drink.

“I need actual towels,” he muttered, and then, “Wait, what? You didn't hurt me, Liam.”

“Well, I scared you,” Liam amended.

“I was startled, but it's fine,” Niall said, grabbing some towels from the drawer near Liam and again beginning to clean up the mess.

“It's not fine,” Liam said, and he wanted to cry, but instead he opened the refrigerator and grabbed another beer.

“Seriously?!” Niall asked.

“People drink alcohol every day! I don't see what the problem is!” Liam said, brandishing his unopened can around in the air.

“Some people drink beer for fun sometimes,” Niall said, “but like I was saying, when it becomes a regular coping mechanism, that's a problem.”

“Yeah, well, that's just how I was always supposed to be, isn't it?”

Maybe he was an alcoholic, Liam realized then, but what more had he actually expected from himself?

_Nothing_ , he answered his own question. He hadn't expected a damn thing other than that for himself.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Niall asked, unaware of the conversation that Liam had just had with himself in his head.

“It was just in the cards!” Liam explained, popping open his can and taking a sip. Niall stood straight, leaving the towels lying on the floor, and crossed his arms. Liam continued. “It's fate! I was always destined to be a violent drunk.”

“I've never seen you behave violently,” Niall replied, “and I don't think you can be classified as a drunk quite yet, but I want to help keep you from getting to that point.”

“I'm drinking now and I was just violent with you,” Liam pointed out.

“That wasn't violent,” Niall said.

“Using fear is a form of abuse!”

“You weren't  _trying_ to scare me though.”

“That doesn't matter! I still did!”

“Well, I scared you the other night when I went to touch your face,” Niall said then. “Does that mean I abused you?”

“Of course not.”

Both of Niall's eyebrows nearly met his hairline and he unfolded his arms as he backed up to sit on the nearby couch.

“Please explain to me the difference of the scenarios,” he requested.

“The difference, Niall, is that you were trying to comfort me and I was trying to shut you up.”

Liam knew that his words were harsh. He'd meant them to be. He wanted Niall to see what a bad person he was.

Niall sighed.

“Do you want to know what I think?” he asked.

“I guess,” Liam said, knowing he should have said no.

“I think you're scared of becoming like whoever hurt you, but at the same time, you don't think of yourself as any better than them so you're creating a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“That sounds like an excuse,” Liam said.

“It isn't an excuse for anything because you aren't like them, Liam.”

“Maybe not quite yet.”

“You don't ever have to be like them,” Niall continued.

“Haven't you heard of the 'born this way' saying?” Liam questioned.

“Yes, and it's true to an extent. You're born with your sexuality and with certain physical and personality aspects, but you are not born with predetermined actions and paths. You're not your dad, Li.”

At the mention of the man, Liam physically jolted and looked around, as if he was expecting him to suddenly be there when he knew that was ridiculous. His father had better things to do than hunt down his estranged son, even if it was to make his life a living hell.

“My dad didn't do anything to me,” he belatedly told Niall, out of habit mostly, but also because he didn't want to go down that road. He liked to pretend he couldn't still feel exactly what all the hits felt like.

“Please don't do this,” Niall sighed, his shoulders dropping like this conversation had worn him out. Well, he had told Liam multiple times that he was exhausting. “Please stop blocking me out.”

“I'm trying to protect you, Niall!” Liam exclaimed, and Niall rolled his eyes again.

“Oh, come on, Li. I'm not some princess and you're not a villain. This is real life. Nobody is going to write our happy endings for us.”

“I don't have a happy ending.”

“And you say I'm dramatic.”

Niall paused for just a second to let that sink in to Liam's head, he guessed, before continuing.

“Besides, if you have nothing to lose, why don't you let me figure out my ending for myself instead of trying to determine what will or won't allow me to reach it happily?”

Sometime in the midst of his speech, Niall had risen to his feet and was walking slowly but surely over towards Liam. Liam's heart was pounding, but not all in a bad way. Niall had said this was real life, but suddenly it felt to Liam like he was in the climax of some cheesy romantic drama. He never thought that would be a good thing but when Niall finally stopped in front of Liam, the tops of their shoes almost touching, the taller dancer found it really hard not to kiss the other.

“It's your move,” Niall spoke, and Liam briefly wondered if Niall could read his mind.

“My move?” Liam asked lamely, his voice barely sounding like it belonged to him at all.

“Yes,” Niall answered simply with no further explanation. Liam thought that counted as permission to kiss him, and he desperately wanted to, but he knew it was a bad idea. He should walk away and get as far away from Niall as he could, but he couldn't seem to get his feet to move.

Before Liam even really knew what he was doing, he had started to play with the bottom of Niall's hair with one hand while the other rested on the man's hip. It was then that Liam noticed that Niall's breathing was much harder than normal too, but he didn't look scared at all. He looked almost hopeful.

“I can't,” Liam whispered, mostly not wanting Niall to hear him, but he did anyway.

“Fine,” he said, but instead of pulling away like Liam expected him to do, Niall raised himself up onto his toes and pressed his lips to Liam's, his eyes shutting right before they touched. Instead of holding onto his hip, Liam moved to support Niall on the back, liking the way his weight was pressed into him. After a second too long, Liam began to kiss him back, and he was pretty sure he had meant to pull away, but now Niall wouldn't let him, one of his hands gripping the back of Liam's neck while the other was wrapped tightly around his middle.

So apparently this was happening, Liam realized after a few seconds had passed and Niall had yet to stop anything. Well, if this was what Niall wanted…

As Liam let go of Niall's back, running his hands instead up his shirt, Niall finally leaned away, breaking their kiss and gently pushing Liam off of him.

. “No,” he said. “You told me before that anyone you have sex with has to leave, but you never said anything about a kiss.”

“I...I don't know,” Liam said, suddenly panicking because he had never been in this situation before. He never kissed without later having sex, and so he'd never kissed anyone that he wanted to stick around.

“You don't have to know,” Niall said. “We can just see where things go.”

“I don't know how to do that.”

“Well, first off, will you go on a date with me?”

Liam jolted again, perhaps more than he had when his father had been mentioned.

“I don't date,” he reminded Niall for the umpteenth time.

“Why are you so scared of that word?” Niall asked. “It's just a word.”

“I don't like it.”

“Fine,” Niall sighed. “How about we just go to dinner and then see a movie? That's simple, yeah?”

“But not as a date?” Liam verified.

“As a something,” Niall said.

“What's a 'something'?”

“Whatever you imagine it to be.”

“I need answers.”

“Life doesn't always have answers, Liam. Some things just are.”

“That literally makes no sense.”

Niall gave a small laugh.

“Just go to dinner and the movies with me?” he asked.

“Fine, but not as a date.”

“As a something.”

Despite how hard he tried not to, Liam smiled and then bit his lip to keep it from growing too wide.

“Okay. That works.”

Niall smiled and gave Liam another kiss; a quick one.

“You're exhausting,” Liam sighed dramatically, and Niall laughed loudly, throwing his head back.

“I guess we both need to get to know each other a little better so we understand where we're coming from,” he said.

“Didn't you learn enough during twenty questions?” Liam asked.

“We barely scratched the surface,” Niall said. Liam frowned, feeling as if Niall already knew too much.

Sensing his distress, Niall offered another smile.

“Don't worry, Li,” he said. “Getting to know each other is what somethings are for.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing my best to get the next chapter up this weekend, but please don't hate me if I can't make it! Again, I apologize.


	20. Chapter 20

***Harry***

When Harry left the bathroom, he popped a piece of gum into his mouth and went to join Louis in hair and makeup. Louis was chatting politely with the stylist as Harry entered, but he stopped mid-sentence when he heard Harry and looked up to see his reflection in the mirror.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Louis said, a big smile forming across his face. Harry smiled a bit in return, knowing that Louis didn't call him gorgeous because of what he just did or because his costume was too big on him now, but the dancer couldn't help but to think there had to be a correlation between all of it. He felt guilt start to take over his pride, but he swallowed it down and took a couple deep, yet subtle, breaths to relax. Louis didn't need to know what Harry had just done. He would just worry and it was really no big deal. Harry wouldn't get as bad as he had gotten before. He was just going to cut back a little more and purge if he felt the need, which honestly wasn't that often as long as he didn't over eat. Harry didn't like purging all that much. It hurt and was gross, but sometimes, he felt it was necessary.

“Are you ready for the show?” Harry asked, sitting in the chair next to Louis. The stylist spun him around so the two could face each other and when Harry was staring at Louis, he almost felt better than when he gave into those unhealthy urges. Almost, but Louis would be temporary, Harry still knew, and his disorder, which he simultaneously loved and hated, would be around as long as Harry wanted it, and then after as well.

  


Despite Harry doing things he knew could make him collapse and Louis being sick; despite all that had happened before the show, the concert went smoothly. It was no secret that Louis was more nervous for this show than he had even been for the first of the tour, but that was understandable, as his voice was still likely to go out at any minute. Luckily, he got through without any missed notes or voice cracks; just a few coughing fits in between songs. During the first, when he had to pause what he was saying to cough into his elbow away from the microphone, a chorus of 'aw's could be heard from the audience, as well as giggles from both fans and the performers on stage.

“Awwww,” Louis mocked them before giving a small laugh himself. “Yeah, everyone who was at the meet-and-greet, this is what you have to look forward to in the next week or so. You're welcome.”

Someone screamed something, and Harry couldn't understand what they said, but Louis had, and he laughed again.

“Did you just ask me to cough on you?” he said. “You are all very weird, and I love it.”

Turning from the audience, Louis locked eyes with Harry and winked before blowing a kiss. Since there was a slew of earsplitting screams at that very moment, Harry guessed that it hadn't gone unnoticed. Louis's eyes widened, he signed 'sorry,' even though he didn't have anything to apologize for, Harry thought, and then he turned back around to introduce his next song.

  


Once the encore songs had been performed and the curtain had closed for the final time, Harry and Louis spotted each other backstage and both ran towards each other. Well, Louis was running, and Harry guessed he was too, but his legs were suddenly very heavy and the room had a slight tint of blue. He swallowed hard and blinked against it as Louis reached him and collapsed into his chest. His arms just as heavy as his legs were, Harry somehow managed to hold the man upright, wrapping him tightly against him.

“That was a struggle, wasn't it?” Harry asked, giving the top of Louis's head a kiss. In response, Louis coughed harshly right into Harry's chest.

“Oh, thanks so much for that,” the dancer teased.

“Sorry.”

“I was joking.”

Harry pulled back, but kept a firm hold on Louis's shoulders, the contact keeping them both upright, he thought.

“No drinking tonight,” Harry continued. “You need to rest.”

“Will you come with me?” Louis asked, his voice sounding a bit scratchy but not nearly as bad as Harry imagined it would be after the show.

“Of course I will,” Harry replied, slipping his hand into Louis's. They found Beatrice just to tell her that they were going to the bus and then went on their way. The cool air gave Harry a little more energy and the blue in his vision cleared. Harry knew it would probably be temporary, but he was thankful anyway.

Once on Louis's bus, the older man stripped down to his underwear and then collapsed onto his stomach on his bed. He took a few deep breaths into the pillow and then rolled onto his back.

“I need to shower,” he muttered sleepily.

“Right now I'm afraid you would pass out in it,” Harry admitted. Louis didn't say anything back, his eyes half shut already. Harry moved forward, wanting to kiss Louis all over his cute, sleepy face, but he felt too dirty, and not from the show, but from before, when he'd purged. He was the one that needed a scalding hot shower and to brush his teeth, perhaps until his gums bled, so that he could be clean again.

Harry cleared his throat, shaking his head against the thoughts and glad that Louis's eyes had closed all the way. By the way his breathing pattern was, Harry didn't think he was actually asleep yet, but he was definitely heading that way.

“I'm going to get you water,” Harry told him. “You need to drink a little and then you need to sleep, okay?”

“Mm.”

Taking that as an agreement, Harry hurried to the refrigerator and grabbed a cold water bottle before going back to the bed. He helped Louis sit up and watched him drink and then helped him lay back down once he was through, even though Louis probably didn't need his help at all.

“I'm going to go wash up,” Harry said.

“Okay,” Louis mumbled, rolling onto his side and pulling his pillow closer to him. Harry rubbed his arm soothingly before grabbing clothes from his own tour bus and cleaning up. Once he felt at least halfway sanitized, he laid down next to Louis, who was sound asleep. Harry wished that he could tell Louis, even in a whisper, that he loved him because he knew that he did. Though he'd tried to convince himself that he had just been tricked by the lighting or sympathy for what had happened earlier, Harry knew better. He'd never felt the way he felt with Louis, even with Dracen. Sure, he'd loved his ex-boyfriend, but he never struggled to take his eyes off of him, and he didn't miss him every second that he wasn't around. Harry thought those feelings were only felt by characters in a fiction story, but that was how he felt now.

Unlike characters in a fiction story, though, Harry couldn't tell Louis how he felt because it would scare him away. Louis might like Harry well enough, but he didn't love him, and Harry didn't want him to either leave or try to fake the same feelings. Harry still knew deep down that there was a quickly approaching expiration date on their relationship-that wasn't even a true relationship yet-but that didn't stop him from continuing to do what he felt would make it last as long as possible.

To ensure that Harry didn't say anything dumb, the dancer bit his tongue, closed his eyes and repeated to himself over and over in his head the ugly truth; Louis would never love him.

***Niall***

It was a good thing that their dance routine had been ingrained deeply into Niall's mind during the several practice sessions they'd had that summer because he had to work from instinct that night. It was too hard for him to concentrate on what he was supposed to be doing when he knew that, soon, he would be going on a date with Liam!

Okay, so they weren't calling it a date, but that was totally what it was.

_I'm going on a date with him_ , Niall kept reminding himself, as if he could forget, every time his eyes found their way to Liam that night.  _I am going on a date with that beautiful man that makes my heart pound._

After their kiss, Liam had acted a bit funny at first. He kept his distance as he and Niall walked back into the stadium and was uncharacteristically quiet during dinner, but he had given Niall a good luck kiss before they went onstage that night. Niall didn't mind that, though the kiss was to give him luck, it probably made him perform a bit worse because how was he supposed to not be a little shaky when Liam had kissed him first?

Before kissing him, Liam had approached a bit awkwardly. He had been standing away from Niall, staring him down and then looking away quickly and blushing when he realized he'd been busted. Niall simply smiled to himself and waited to see what Liam was going to do next.

After getting busted staring a second time, Liam finally made the decision to approach, shuffling his feet nervously as he did so. Niall continued to smile, knowing teasing  Liam when he felt vulnerable like this would be the worst decision he could possibly make. Besides, it was cute. Niall was used to confident Liam, and he loved him of course, but it was good to see him humbled as well.

“Hi,” Liam said when he stopped in front of Niall, their toes inches from touching.

“Hi,” Niall replied. Liam shifted.

“Um, good luck,” he said.

“Thanks, you too,” Niall said. Liam nodded, bounced a couple times on the balls of his feet and then leaned down and placed a kiss to Niall's lips before hurrying off. 

In retrospect, that shouldn't have been enough to make Niall feel so giddy for the whole entire show, but it was. 

Once the concert was over, Liam found Niall, grabbing his arm and turning him around before wrapping him up tightly in his arms. Niall may have hummed out loud, but if so, he at least did it quietly and Liam seemed to have no idea. 

Wrapping his own arms around Liam's middle, Niall could feel him shaking a little as his muscles worked on calming down. He had a feeling it wasn't only his muscles that needed to relax and he rubbed the other's back soothingly until Liam pulled away.

“Are you getting a drink?” Niall asked then. Liam shook his head, and then covered his mouth as he let out a yawn. 

“Can we go to the bus instead?” he asked after he'd caught his breath. 

“I was hoping for that, actually,” Niall said, and followed Liam to their bus, which was currently empty besides the driver sleeping in his seat.

Liam sat down on the couch right away, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. 

“You know you can go to the bunk if you want to sleep,” Niall pointed out. “I'll wake you up when we get to the hotel.”

“I don't want to,” Liam said, opening one eye and motioning for Niall to go closer. He did, and when he was within reach, Liam pulled him down onto his lap, sitting forwards, and lifted his head to give a sleepy smile. Niall liked the way that Liam's hands felt on his thighs and he wanted to kiss him from his neck to his collar bone and then back up to his lips, but he didn't because he was afraid that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from going further at that point, and he couldn't lose Liam, which he knew he would if they did anything.

“When are we doing the dinner and movie thing?” Liam asked once the two had stared at each other for what was probably an awkward amount of time, but, to Niall, at least, it didn't feel awkward at all. 

At the mention of their non-date date, Niall felt a brief moment of elation, but he held himself together well.

“We can do it the day after tomorrow once we reach our destination and have the rest of the day to ourselves,” he decided, but he didn't actually want to wait that long to go out with Liam. “We can do something else tomorrow before the show,” Niall added.

“I have a great idea,” Liam said, patting Niall's thighs to ask him to get up. Niall didn't want to, but he did anyway, and then Liam got to his feet.

“Let's get washed up,” Liam said. “We'll have to take a taxi there and to the hotel, but I want to take you somewhere.”

“Where?” Niall asked. The corners of Liam's mouth twitched up briefly.

“Sydney Harbo u r,” he said. “You said you wanted to see it at night, right?”

“Yes,” Niall said, a grin spreading across his face again. “Yes, I did.”

  


Niall was right; the bridge was absolutely beautiful at night.  The bridge itself was pretty, being lit by its several sparkling lights, but the entire area was lovely; the outlines of partially lit buildings just visible against the black sky.

Liam had brought a blanket, snacks and, naturally, a bottle of wine, and he set up a mini picnic along the walkway. It felt romantic to Niall, but he of course didn't say so out loud.

“So does this count as  a  'something?'” he asked instead. Liam didn't give any indication that he'd heard him until he finished chewing his bite and swallowed.

“By technical definition, yes,” he answered, looking up at Niall,  appearing guarded, but not altogether unhappy.

“What about by your definition?” Niall questioned. He expected that to possibly cause Liam to put his walls up more, but instead, he seemed to relax a bit, a smile breaking the seriousness on his face. 

Instead of replying, he sipped wine from the bottle the two were sharing.

“Want to play twenty questions?” Niall asked.

“That didn't turn out so well last time,” Liam said.

“I think it turned out fine. We can skip questions again.”

“Fine,” Liam said, taking another sip of wine before setting the bottle down carefully in between the two.

“Are you having fun?” Niall asked, taking Liam's silence as his cue to go first.

“I am,” Liam said. “Ar e you?”

“Lots. I'm counting that as your question, so it's my turn again. Um...What's one thing on your bucket list?”

“I want to skydive,” Liam said.

“Well, that's terrifying, but okay.”

Liam smiled, but instead of asking Niall a question, he said,

“I also want to record a song, like, in a studio.”

“You sing?” Niall asked, genuinely curious.

“I like to, I just don't often,” Liam said.

“Why did you lip synch when you and Harry did that song  at karaoke then?” Niall questioned.

“It was Harry's time to show off,” Liam explained. “Besides, I haven't sung in forever. I don't even know what I sound like anymore.”

“Why don't you sing more if you like to do it?”

“It isn't your turn for a question,” Liam pointed out, sticking  out his tongue, despite the fact that Niall had already asked a question out of turn. The smaller man motioned for him to go on.

“What's something on your bucket list?”

“You're stealing all of my questions,” Niall teased. Both of them smiled, and Niall answered.

“I want to go to school and actually get a degree,” he said. “I don't know what in. Probably business or sports management or medicine.”

“That's cool,” Liam said.

“Yeah, I guess. So why has it been so long since you've sung?”

Niall almost expected Liam to skip the question, but he didn't.

“I wasn't allowed to when I was younger,” Liam said. “My dad thought that I should be into sports instead. He would have loved you.”

Liam gave a teasing smile and Niall gave a slight grin in return, but thought that the feeling would definitely not  have  be en mutual. 

“That's why I started dancing,” Liam continued. “No one could hear me doing that and when my mum found out it was something I was interested in, she put me in classes secretly. It was my new way to express myself and my instructors were always so supportive, so I just stuck to it.”

“We'll have to go do karaoke sometime,” Niall said. Liam smiled.

“Anyway, what's your favorite sport?” he asked.

“That's tough,” Niall said. “Probably golf, but I really enjoy soccer too. Or,  you know,  football.  What's your favorite type of music?”

“Pop, probably, with an R&B type feel to it, but I like most genres of music, really. Um...How did you come to be a hopeless romantic?”

Niall laughed, taking a drink from the bottle.

“I don't know,” he answered. “I think it's just in my nature, mostly, but I  also think it started out when my parents got divorced. Like every other kid, I said I was never going to end up like that and created in my head what the perfect relationship would be like and then swore to myself that I would have that someday. Now that I'm not so young and naive, I know there isn't any perfect relationship and that a lot of people don't find their true love, or soul mate or whatever, but I haven't given up the hope yet.”

Liam smiled, but this time it had a sadder look to it.

“Your parents divorced and you managed to gain more hope rather than lose it?”

“Yeah. I mean, they're still on good terms, so it's not like I was put through an ugly separation or anything, but yeah, a lot of kids take it a lot harder, I think.”

“I think you're just amazing,” Liam said, moving the empty snack wrappers to the side and putting the wine bottle next to the blanket before scooting forward so that his and Niall's knees were touching. Niall smiled, admiring, not for the first time, how pretty Liam's eyes were. They were so dark of a brown that Niall thought one could literally get lost in them and not be able to look away.

“You have really pretty eyes,” Liam  complimented, looking down; unable to speak his mind while looking right at Niall. The smaller man gave a  slight laugh.

“I was just thinking the same thing about you,” he said. 

“Really?” Liam asked, looking up again, his forehead creased. “They're just brown.”

“They're so dark,” Niall said, “and they have the prettiest shape to them. They really are pretty, Li.”

Liam looked down again and Niall thought he may have blushed a tad, but of course couldn't be sure in the dark. It didn't take long before Liam was again looking into Niall's eyes and they took in each other's appearance for a few moments before Liam leaned down and kissed Niall. This kiss wasn't the slightest bit awkward, and it wasn't over before Niall really knew what was going on. Both of their eyes fluttered shut immediately. The kiss grew deeper and hungrier the longer it went on, but they stopped before things got too far, pulling apart at exactly the same time. When they did, they smiled, and then Liam yawned again before positioning himself so that his head was resting on Niall's shoulders as the two looked out through the bridge at the water.

“I don't want to go back,” Liam said, his voice showing signs of sleep already.

“It's not like we have to say goodbye when we do,” Niall said. “We share a room.”

“Yeah,” Liam agreed, “but nothing feels real right now, and I mean that in a good way. I like it.”

“Reality isn't all bad,” Niall told him, “and I'm not just saying that as an optimist. Good things will happen to you, Li, and you don't have to run away and escape reality to keep them.  I'm just as real here as I'm going to be back at the hotel, or the tour bus, or anywhere else  we go. I don't know if I'm a good thing for you, but I like to think that I am, and I'm actually here.”

“You are a good thing,” Liam assured him. “Too good.”

“How can something be too good?” Niall questioned.

“Because then it's harder to recover when it's gone.”

“What if it never leaves?”

“Nothing lasts forever.”

“I guess you're right,” Niall said because, technically, he was, and Liam seemed to try to be a technical person, “but not everything ends in pain.”

“You know that, even if you find the person that you're supposed to be with the rest of your life; your soul mate, that one day, you will die, or they will die, and the other will be left without them until they die too.”

“Unless  we die together like  _ The Notebook. _ ”

“I thought we were talking about reality here?”

Niall laughed, moving himself to a more comfortable position but pulling Liam along with him and making sure to barely jostle him.

“ Living your life afraid of feeling pain is worse than living a happy life that sometimes has moments of pain.”

Niall expected Liam to shoot down his remark with another sarcastic comment, but to his surprise, he didn't. He stayed quiet for a while and Niall didn't interrupt his thoughts. 

“Maybe you're right,” Liam finally said, very quietly, and Niall only held him closer until they both started shivering and decided to call a taxi and go back to normalcy. Niall couldn't help but to hope, though, that his every day life would be a little more special now; a little less lonely. He hoped that when they reached the brightness of the hotel and went on with their nightly routine that Liam wouldn't feel as if he was okay with his  own reality that he deemed safe and painless, even if Niall saw it as anything but.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was kind of short compared to recent chapters, but that was the only way to get it posted on time! (Sorry, real life has been a soap opera recently XD.) The next update will be this weekend and there will be a lot more to it, I promise!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I broke my promise about a weekend update and I'm really sorry :( I had the chapter finished, but when I was editing it, it all seemed very rushed and you all deserve better. So I re-wrote it and I hope it's okay. (My schedule has recently changed and I'm still trying to get used to it.) I am sorry!!!

***Liam***

Even though Liam hadn't had that much to drink while out with Niall, he felt pretty intoxicated as the taxi took the pair to their hotel. He was dizzy and everything around him seemed to be moving too fast for him to keep up with. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant feeling, but he thought he should be a little more concerned than what he was. Niall was next to him, though, and kept giving him those perfect, dazzling smiles and so Liam couldn't find it in himself to worry about anything at all.

As soon as the men were inside of their hotel room, Liam made his way to his bed, not bothering to undress or anything before he collapsed down on top of the sheets.

“Tired?” Niall asked from the foot of the bed, but Liam could only see a bit of him with his eyes half open. Somehow, he still found enough energy to nod.

“Come here,” he mumbled, but his words were clear enough for Niall, who did as he was asked. Liam reached out half blindly until he found Niall's hand and pulled him to the bed. Sighing in what Liam hoped what content, Niall adjusted himself to a more comfortable position, resting his arm over Liam's waist. Liam forced his eyes open and smiled, scooting himself closer to Niall before shutting them again.

“I don't really know what I'm doing,” he admitted, hearing the sleep in his own voice. He truly didn't know what he was doing or why, either, but it felt right, at least for the time being. He knew he might feel different in the morning when his head was less foggy.

“You know, I've discovered that people act like they know what they're doing, but most of them truly have no idea, including me, so you're not alone,” Niall said.

“You have great philosophies on life and love,” Liam commented, to which Niall laughed. The smaller man turned his head slightly to the side to place a kiss on the top of Liam's hand before he settled into the pillow again.

“Good night, Li,” he said. “I'll see you in the morning. Well...later in the morning.”

“Don't expect me to be awake until, like, at least noon,” Liam warned.

“Okay, then I'll see you in the afternoon.”

Liam thought Niall said something else after that, but he had already drifted too far from consciousness to know for certain.

  


It was eleven o' clock when Liam pulled himself from slumber.

“Good morning,” Niall greeted when the other man lifted his head from the pillow. Through half closed eyes, Liam saw him sitting up in bed next to him, hinting that he hadn't woken up too much earlier himself, so he didn't feel all that bad when he replied with only a huff as he buried his face into his pillow.

“You're awake earlier than I expected you to be,” Niall continued.

Liam simply yawned and, giving a small chuckle, Niall started playing with the back of the other man's hair. It almost lulled Liam back into a sleep, but he felt that if he dozed off again, he would be out for another few hours and he knew he shouldn't let himself sleep the whole day away, so, begrudgingly, Liam sat up after a few relaxing minutes. Niall gave a smile.

“Your Aunt Karen called,” he said. “She wants you to call her or Nicola when you have a chance. I hope you don't mind that I answered your phone when she rang, but I didn't want you to be woken. You looked peaceful.”

“No, it's fine,” Liam assured the other, smiling a tad bit himself. Yawning again, Liam took a few moments to rub the sleep out of his eyes before he crawled over Niall's legs and retrieved his phone from the nightstand. “I'm going to go out in the hall to call,” he explained.

“Okay.”

Liam's first instinct was to ignore the fact that his aunt had called, of course, but he hadn't talked to her since much before the tour started and even though he had his reasons, he still felt bad about it. His reasons were selfish and reflected only his own issues; not the woman's.

“Hello?” she answered after the very first ring, sounding unsure.

“Hey,” Liam said, and the woman gasped upon the realization that it was indeed her nephew who was calling her.

“Liam, hey honey! How are you?”

“I'm fine. How are you?”

“I'm doing well. I miss you.”

Unexpectedly, the woman's words made a few tears form in Liam's eyes, and he hated himself for it. He swallowed them down before replying.

“I miss you too,” he admitted, and he did. He probably missed her more than she could ever miss him, he thought.

“How is the tour going?” Karen asked.

“It's great. I'm having a lot of fun; more fun than I even thought I would, actually.”

“Good. I'm so glad.”

She paused, and Liam didn't fill the silence.

“I heard about what happened at the meet-and-greet yesterday,” the woman continued on. “Are you sure you're really okay, sweetie?”

“Are there pictures?” Liam asked instead of answering right away. He felt a bit of panic, not wanting to be known as Louis's back-up dancer who was missing a few marbles.

“Yes…,” Karen answered hesitantly. “...And videos.”

Liam groaned.

“I'm fine,” he assured his aunt belatedly. “I let the bloke get to me, obviously, but I'm fine now. Really.”

“Are you in any trouble?”

“No. Everyone was really nice about it.”

“Good. None of it was your fault.”

“I guess, but, Karen, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, babe.”

Liam didn't know why he was letting himself ask this question. It had been on his mind for a while, but he was always too afraid to know the answer. He still felt fear now, but suddenly, he just couldn't stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

“What did you think when you found out that I was gay?”

He expected a long pause and then a lie for an answer, or, worse, the truth; that she was disappointed but had eventually come to terms with it. However, Karen didn't hesitate to answer at all, and she sounded genuine in her reply.

“I didn't think anything, really,” she said. “You were still the same boy that I'd always known. I just knew then that I would have to annoy you with my questions about cute boys instead of cute girls.”

“Really?” Liam asked, a wide smile breaking across his face. His voice didn't sound much like his.

“Really.”

“You didn't seem approving of all of the guys I was with in school,” the dancer pointed out.

“That had nothing to do with the fact that they were men,” Karen replied. “I was just worried that you weren't treating yourself right or being safe. I would have been the same way if you were with a new woman every night. I love you and I want you happy, Liam.”

“I love you too,” Liam said, and he was surprised at how good that felt to say. “And I'm happy, don't worry.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah.”

It was a work in progress, Liam knew, but compared to how he usually felt, he was happy. The fact that he woke up not thinking of alcohol or how he was going to pick up a man that night proved that, he thought.

“There's a guy,” Liam continued, unaware that he was going to say anything before it was out of his mouth. He'd already started, though, so he knew that he had to finish now. “He's my room mate, and he's cool. I mean...he's really cute and seems to be interested in me and stuff. We've been hanging out.”

“Have you?!” Karen asked, sounding way too excited, but Liam smiled at the tone in her voice anyway.

“Yeah.”

“Actually hanging out and not just...”

“Yeah, no. Just, like, hanging out.”

Well, there was the kissing, but that was innocent enough, in Liam's opinion.

“That makes me happy, Liam,” Karen told hm.

Liam didn't say anything. What could he really say to that? Luckily, his aunt didn't expect him to.

“Anyway, I'd love to talk to you all day, but I won't keep you. I know you're busy. I just wanted to check on you after hearing the news, and I wanted to hear your voice.”

“I'll talk to you soon, Karen,” Liam promised.

“I do hope so. I love you.”

“I love you too. Tell the girls and Geoff that I love them too, please.”

“I will,” Karen said, and Liam could basically hear her smile. “They love you too, and I hope you know that.”

Liam hummed noncommittally, and after another round of goodbyes, the pair hung up.

When Liam entered the room again, Niall was still sitting in bed, leaning against the head board and watching some sports channel on the television. He turned the volume down as Liam took his place next to him.

“Do you want to do something today?” Niall asked, leaning slightly against Liam. In return, Liam rested his own head on top of Niall's.

“We probably have just enough time for lunch and a film as long as we hurry up and get ready, if you're up for it.”

“Yeah!” Niall answered, and then paused, clearly trying to tone down the excitement in his voice before he spoke again. “That sounds fun.”

***Harry***

Before Harry was awake enough to be able to open his eyes, he heard voices speaking. He didn't think they were talking to him and so he didn't try too hard to pull himself to full consciousness. Still feeling Louis beside him, Harry simply snuggled closer. He thought he felt an arm wrap around him as the voices continued, and only smiled in contentment. After a while-Harry wasn't sure how long because he had no concept of time at the moment-the noise stopped and he was about to drift back to sleep when he heard the click of a door closing. He thought he felt Louis's chest vibrate as he let out a groan, and lips touched Harry's forehead gently before the bed shifted and, suddenly, all of the body heat from next to him was gone. His smile turned to a frown and he curled around himself, but it wasn't the same and soon, his eyes fluttered open to confirm that Louis was no longer beside him.

“Lou?” Harry asked quietly, sitting up and blinking against the dizziness he felt. He received no reply besides another door closing-the bathroom door-and Harry heard a few coughs and a sneeze before the sink was turned on.

Sighing, Harry pulled his knees up and rested his forehead on top of them. His head was pounding and he was shaking. The position soon made him start to feel sick, so he took to laying down flat on his back and covering his eyes with one hand, trying to block out as much light as he could. He didn't move, even when the bathroom door reopened and footsteps slowly made their way closer.

“Harry?” Louis whispered. “Are you awake?”

“Mhm,” Harry mumbled, fearing that his words would be slurred if he tried to speak.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Harry managed and uncovered his eyes, barely resisting cringing against the brightness. It was so bright that the room was a little blurry, but he of course wouldn't say so because he knew that it wasn't normal.

Despite it all, Harry forced a tiny smile, but Louis didn't return it. He was frowning and forwent buttoning his shirt past the couple bottom buttons he had already done to straddle Harry on the bed. He kept all of his weight off the younger man again, treating him like he was fragile. Even though Harry honestly felt fragile right then, he still hated being treated in such a way and so he guided Louis's hips down until the singer was sitting on top of him.

“You look a little pale,” Louis commented, feeling Harry's forehead for a fever that Harry knew he didn't have.

“You look handsome,” Harry said in means of a reply, buttoning one more of Louis's buttons for him, but then stopping because he was quite enjoying the view. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah. Turns out I totally forgot that I have an interview this morning. It's a really good thing I forced myself into the shower when we got back to the hotel last night. Do you want to come with?”

“I probably don't have time to get ready,” Harry guessed, wanting to go but glad for the excuse not to because he didn't trust himself to stand right then.

“Probably not,” Louis said, looking disappointed, and he leaned forward to kiss Harry's forehead. “I can't wait until I can kiss your lips again,” he commented.

“Just do it then,” Harry urged.

“I might still be contagious.”

His arm feeling heavy, Harry placed his hand across Louis's forehead.

“You don't have a fever, so I think we're good,” he said, grateful that Louis felt cool for the first time in days. Still, he had a feeling that Louis wouldn't take the initiative, so Harry mustered the strength to lean up and kiss Louis's lips. Though he felt terrible physically, Harry still had some pride and a tiny bit of confidence from the progress he'd made yesterday, and that seemed to be fueling him.

Giving in, Louis kissed Harry back, the two gasping and making the tiniest of moans against each other's mouths. After a minute, Harry needed more and so he slid his hands up the loose shirt on Louis's torso and squeezed his hips lightly. Louis gasped, breaking their lips' contact, but he kept the two close by tangling his fingers in Harry's curls. Harry managed to sit up even straighter, holding onto Louis to reposition him as well, and then the dancer began kissing the singer's neck. A slightly louder moan escaped from Louis's throat.

“What are we doing?” he asked somewhat breathlessly.

“What do you want to do?” Harry asked, willing to do whatever Louis wished, though he hoped that he would be able to at least keep some clothes on, whatever Louis's answer was.

“I have to go,” Louis said, sounding as if he spoke the words reluctantly.

“When?” Harry asked.

“I have to meet Beatrice out back in ten minutes.”

“I can work fast.”

“Jesus Christ,” Louis breathed as Harry moved his hands high up on Louis's thighs, closer to his butt, really, and squeezed again. “You're moving awfully fast for a guy who claimed to not even use tongue before the second date,” he teased.

“I may have lied about that,” Harry said. He hadn't lied, because the only person he'd gone on a second date with, or had used tongue with, had been his ex-boyfriend and they hadn't done anything more than a peck on the lips until the third, but that didn't mean that Harry was going to make Louis wait that long. Part of it was because he knew that he would likely be allowed to keep Louis longer if he gave him what he wanted, but he did genuinely want to make Louis feel good too, for unselfish reasons.

Louis moaned again as Harry bit down lightly on his neck and, getting a burst of energy from adrenaline, Harry hoisted Louis further up on him and then bit down on his collarbone.

Then came a knock on the door, making Louis jump.

“Fuck!” he groaned, though it came out more like a sultry moan. There was a pause and then, from the other side of the door, came Beatrice's voice.

“Never mind!” she called. “Please make it quick, though.”

“Shit,” Louis hissed, getting clumsily off of Harry and nearly tripping as he ran to the door, trying and failing to button his shirt as he went. “Beatrice!”

But by the time Louis had gotten to the door, the woman was already gone.

“Shit,” Louis muttered again, turning to Harry, who was walking towards him, as he shut the door.

“I'm sorry,” Harry said, blushing from embarrassment.

“No, no, it's fine. You don't have anything to apologize for,” Louis said, standing on his tiptoes to place a quick kiss on Harry's lips.

“Are you leaving now?” Harry asked.

“I probably should,” Louis sighed. Harry nodded, beginning to button the man's shirt for him. When he'd finished, Louis kissed him again. “I'll see you soon.”

“Good luck,” Harry said. “Is it a show that you're on?”

Louis told him that it was and informed him of the channel, should Harry want to watch, and then, with one last kiss, he left. Harry had to shove his embarrassment down and take pride in the fact that Louis's eyes had still looked glassy as he turned away from him.

When a couple minutes had passed and Harry was sure Louis had to be at least in the elevator, the dancer got an orange juice from the drink machine in the hallway and took it to bed, sipping on it as he waited for Louis's interview to start.

Just like when he was a teenager, waiting to watch Louis on TV, Harry felt his excitement start to grow as soon as the show came on. Unlike then, though, he felt a physical warmth when Louis walked out from backstage to take his seat, and Harry couldn't help but to smile. Though the orange juice had made his headache worse, he turned the volume on the television up anyway.

“Thanks so much for agreeing to come on our show,” the female interviewer, Ruby, said once the fans in the audience had quieted down.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Louis said politely, smiling.

“How are you doing?” Ruby asked. “I heard you weren't feeling well at last night's show.”

“Oh, no, I'm great,” Louis assured her. “I've been a bit ill for the past couple of days, but it was nothing serious and I'm doing a lot better today. Thanks for asking.”

“How is the Australian tour going so far?” the other interviewer, William, asked. Louis answered that it was going extremely well and was telling them how much he loved it there when Harry received a text message from his sister.

_I'm live streaming your boyfriend's interview,_ it read.  _He's much cuter than I originally gave him credit for._

_Back off_ , Harry replied teasingly.

_Don't worry. He's yours,_ Gemma assured him. Harry wished that were true.

“We're really sorry about what happened at the meet-and-greet yesterday,” Ruby was apologizing to Louis when Harry turned his full attention back to the screen. Louis gave a small laugh.

“It definitely made the night more interesting,” Louis said, “though I don't know why you're apologizing. It's all on that bloke.”

“I'm sure it must have been hard to perform like normal after that,” Ruby continued.

“Not really,” Louis told her. “Not at all, actually. With my profession, you have to get used to receiving criticism and even hate. It was shocking and it was a bit upsetting, but I forgot all about it once I was surrounded by the fans who actually care and was making them happy.”

“Was your boyfriend around when it happened?” William asked, and Harry sucked in a loud breath. He knew that celebrities typically knew of the questions they were going to be asked beforehand, but by Louis's reaction, he guessed he hadn't seen this one coming either.

“Harry?” the singer verified.

“Yeah; Harry,” William said, “but he is your boyfriend, right?”

“We haven't labeled anything yet,” Louis said after thinking about it for just a moment. “I like to think things are heading that way, but Harry and I have yet to have that chat in full. And he's watching this, I think, so I hope he's not wanting to run down here and cut my mic right about now.”

There were a few laughs, including a nervous one from Louis, who then said,

“Okay, next subject, please?”

“Aw, you're blushing!” Ruby exclaimed which, of course, only made the singer's blush deepen.

_OMG OMG OMG,_ Gemma sent to Harry, who found that he was blushing himself. He ignored her text for the time being.

“Wait, before we move on, I have to know, how did you two meet?” Ruby asked. “Did you know him before he was your dancer?”

“No. I mean, he is one that I picked myself when I observed his dance class, but we hadn't known each other previously.”

“Did the attraction come before or after you decided to put him on tour?” William questioned.

“Um, neither, really,” Louis said. “I definitely thought he was extremely attractive right from the start, but he earned his place. He's really talented. I was infatuated right away, but once I got to know him and his amazing personality better is when  I really...fell...”

Louis trailed off, looking embarrassed as a chorus of 'aws' surrounded throughout the place. Harry would never admit to anyone that he had to turn on the ceiling fan at that point.

_OMG,_ Gemma said again. Still, Harry ignored her, too dizzy and light-headed to even try to form a reply.

“Well everyone wishes the both of you the best,” William told Louis before finally moving on to a subject that didn't involve Harry.

_You're not with Louis at the show, right?_ Gemma sent her third text in a row. When Harry told her that he wasn't, the woman called.

“Oh my god!” she said after Harry had said hello.

“It's not that big of a deal,” Harry said, glad she couldn't see his blush over the phone. He laid down, situating the phone between his ear and the pillow.

“Are you kidding?” Gemma asked rhetorically. “Your celebrity crush that you've idolized from the time you were just a hormonal teenager wants to be your boyfriend!”

“I'm sure he was just saying that so he didn't come off as a dick on air,” Harry said, half believing it.

“He was blushing, Harry,” Gemma said.

“What would he want to date me for?” Harry muttered.

“You're a nice guy and attractive, so why wouldn't he?” Gemma replied.

“I'm not attractive, at least by celebrity standards,” Harry said.

“Yeah you are, and I'm not just saying that because I'm your sister. In fact, it might be a little weird to say that as your sister, but anyway…Make that man your boyfriend as soon as you see him again, Hazza.”

Harry could find no suitable reply but to laugh. Gemma could take that as she wished.

“I have to go, Gem,” he said. The pain in his head was now throbbing and his heart was fluttering, and not just from the butterflies in his stomach.

“No, don't go,” Gemma said.

“I'm not feeling great,” Harry said, hoping she wouldn't use that as an excuse to worry. Luckily, she didn't sound too concerned as she said,

“Yeah, well that's what you get for not being able to keep your hands or lips off of your sick boyfriend.”

Harry simply let out another laugh, and then coughed to regulate his heart beat.

“I'll talk to you later, Gem.”

“Rest up, baby brother. I love you.”

Harry returned the sentiment and the two hung up. Somehow, Harry was asleep in the next few minutes despite the fact that he was freaking out on the inside.

*** Louis***

“Get a hold of yourself, diva,” Beatrice said as a means of congratulations once Louis's interview had ended. “You're still blushing.”

Louis had stopped blushing a long time ago, and he knew that, but his manager's words brought the red right back to his cheeks and he shoved her lightly.

“Shut up.”

  


Harry was sleeping when Louis got back to the hotel room. The television was still on, so Louis found the remote beside of the dancer and turned it off. Normally he would probably try to kiss Harry gently on the cheek or something, but he didn't dare do anything that might wake him. Truthfully, he'd been a little relieved when he'd found out he was sleeping because he'd been so nervous about how their first interaction after that extremely awkward part of the interview would go. Louis guessed he should have been better prepared for the 'Harry' questions. They hadn't had any lined up specifically, but the subject hadn't been black listed, so he should have known the interviewers would find a way to work him in.

With any luck, Louis thought, Harry had fallen asleep before he had witnessed the disaster that was Louis's answer to the 'boyfriend' topic, though now that he took a better look at Harry, his relief disappeared and worry took its place. Harry had grown even paler than before Louis had left. Something clearly wasn't right and Louis was going to feel terrible if he'd given Harry whatever he had.

Taking his chances, Louis felt the other's face again-he was cold-and though he'd done so gently, the contact was still enough to pull Harry from his slumber.

“Hey, sorry,” Louis said, standing only to turn the ceiling fan off and then sitting back by Harry's feet. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered, blinking a few times, rapidly. “Why?”

“Well, it's after noon and you're still sleeping. Plus you just don't look like you feel the best.”

“I'm fine,” Harry assured Louis. “I was awake for a bit. I saw most of your interview.”

A small smile touched Harry's lips, but that didn't do much to calm Louis.

“Oh,” he said. “I'm sorry if I made anything awkward. I was kind of a blubbering idiot.”

“No, you didn't make anything awkward. It's okay,” Harry said, tugging on Louis's shirt so that the singer would lean down and kiss him. “Now, where were we before you had to go?”

Harry's hands found their way to Louis's bottom, insinuating that he knew very well where they had been, and though starting from that point sounded good to Louis, he knew he was too tense to function properly anyway.

“Hold on,” he said. “I'm going to get the thermometer.”

He doubted Harry had a fever, as his skin wasn't warm in the slightest, but something was off with him and Louis needed to know what.

“I'm not sick,” Harry said, but Louis stood anyway, making his way to the bathroom, where he'd left the thermometer that morning after checking his own temperature for good measure. “Lou?”

“I'm coming,” Louis assured the dancer, rinsing off the thermometer quickly. It was after he'd turned off the water and turned to exit the bathroom that he heard a thump from the bed area. He wasn't too concerned, assuming that Harry had dropped something, but when he rounded the corner, he saw that it was Harry himself lying on the ground, face down.

“Harry!” Louis gasped, dropping the thermometer as he ran to the other's side. “Harry, are you okay?”

The dancer didn't answer, nor did he move at all, so Louis rolled his limp body over, fear hitting him hard in the gut when he saw the other's closed eyes.

“ Hey! Harry! Wake up!” Louis urged, slapping the dancer's cheek gently. He turned his head, which made Louis feel only slightly better, but he didn't open his eyes or give any indication that he was actually conscious. Using one hand to check Harry's pulse, Louis used his other to call the doctor. H arry ' s pulse was steady, so, while explaining the situation to the man on the phone, Louis moved quickly to get a cold, damp wash cloth which he then used to pat Harry's face.  It didn't seem to be helping until Louis hung up the phone and then Harry's eyes started slowly opening.

“Harry!” Louis exclaimed, relieved but still scared out of his mind.

“Hey, good morning,” Harry mumbled, hitting himself in the face when he tried to rub his eyes, and he attempted to sit up, but Louis gently pushed him back. Harry frowned.

“Wait, what happened?” he asked.

“You passed out,” Louis explained. “I was in the bathroom getting the thermometer to take your temperature and I guess you got out of bed for some reason, but when I came out, you were just lying on the floor. The doctor is on his way up now.”

“No,” Harry said, his glassy eyes widening. “I'm okay. I just got dizzy.”

“You  _fainted_ ,” Louis said. 

“I'm okay.”

Louis didn't attempt to hide his sigh.

“What's going on, Harry?”

The dancer didn't answer.

“Harry,” Louis urged. “Talk to me. Have you been eating?”

“Yes!” Harry exclaimed, sounded offended, or maybe just defensive. Louis wanted to cry.

“I'm sorry,” he said and Harry's frown deepened, his eyes shutting for a moment from the effort, but he didn't lose consciousness.

“What are you sorry for?”

“I don't know exactly, but I guess for not seeing that something was wrong sooner.”

“Louis, I'm fine.”

“This isn't fine!”

The words came out harsher than Louis had meant them to, and his heart broke as a few tears welled up in Harry's eyes and the dancer bit his lip, trying to keep them from sliding down his cheek.

“I don't want to do this,” Harry said, his voice shaky.

“You don't want to do what?” Louis asked. He was terrified that the answer was going to be the tour or their relationship or both, knowing his heart would actually be shattered if so, but he also knew that, if that was the case, then he would understand.

“I don't want to talk about it or live like this,” Harry said instead, and that maybe hurt Louis worse than if Harry had said what Louis had thought he was going to.

“You don't have to,” Louis said.

“I'll pack my bags,” Harry said, and for a moment Louis thought he'd misunderstood and it was him that Harry wanted to get away from.

“Do you want to go home?” Louis asked, needing the answer outright. Harry shook his head, still lying on the ground.

“No, I don't want to, but I don't want you to have to deal with me.”

“I want what's best for you,” Louis said, picking his words as carefully as he could from the jumbled nonsense in his head. “If you need to leave, then by all means, go, but if you want to stay, that would be great. Either way, I want to be around, if it's safe for you.”

Harry didn't have a chance to reply because a knock on the door sounded before Louis had even finished his statement.

“Stay here,” the singer asked, hurrying to let the doctor inside.

Louis helped Harry onto the bed, despite Harry insisting that he was fine despite being shaky, and then the doctor began his examination. The problem, unsurprising to Harry and Louis, ended up being low blood sugar levels and dehydration. Harry didn't mention his problem to the professional, but did admit that he hadn't been eating enough.

“ That can happen easily on tour,” the doctor said, and Louis wanted to scream because he had no idea. “For someone as thin as you are anyway, I'm sure it's even easier. We can purchase some protein shakes for you if necessary  to keep you from going under calories .”

“I'll keep that in mind,” Harry said, ducking his head, embarrassed by something or another. “Thank you.”

“I'm going to get you some food. For now, have this.”

The older man handed Harry a bottle of water and a protein bar, told Louis to keep an eye on him (like he would be doing anything but) and then left, assuring the two that he would be right back. Harry flipped the bar over and stared at the back before slowly opening it and taking a small bite. When he saw Louis looking at him, he seemed even more embarrassed.

“How bad is it?” Louis asked. “The disorder I mean.”

“It's not bad,” Harry replied quickly. “It's not an actual eating disorder right now.”

Louis looked at Harry, unsure, and trying to study his face for any sign that he wasn't being honest, but Harry forced a smile, making that impossible.

“This was my wake up call,” he said. “I'm going to be fine.”

“How can I help?”

“You do help,” Harry insisted, and when Louis looked at him disbelievingly, said, “You do. The only times I ever feel normal are when I'm around you.”

“But it's not enough.”

“It is.”

Harry sighed and paused before continuing.

“I know you can't understand. I don't expect you to because it's crazy-”

“It's not crazy.”

“-But I'm going to have times like this every now and then. It's nothing to worry about.”

“Is all of this good for you, Harry? The tour, the fame…and me. Are you sure all of this is okay?”

“Please don't ever doubt that you're good for me,” Harry said. “I'm happy around you, honestly.”

“Really?”

Harry nodded, finally taking another bite of his bar. Louis didn't know if it was just for show or not, but he wasn't going to worry about the small details at the moment.

“I feel the same way,” Louis said then.

“And just so you know, if it was up to me, I would definitely call you my boyfriend,” Harry added, his words coming out quickly, like he would draw them back in if it took too long.

Louis's head spun as if he'd just taken a hit of something. He shouldn't be happy right now, when Harry was sick, but he couldn't help but to feel a little bit of joy overtake his fear.

“Even though we've only been on one date that I'm still not even sure can be considered a date?” he asked Harry.

“It was a date,” Harry said, “and yes. If therapy taught me anything, which it did, despite how it seems right now, it's that it's okay to do things a little backwards.”

“I say I owe you a lot of dates though.”

Harry only smiled, setting down his barely touched bar to snuggle against Louis's side.

“You need to eat,” Louis spoke, refusing to let Harry's cuteness distract him.

“I'll eat when he brings me the real food.”

“Hey...um...Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Dracen mentioned...uh, he said...Well...do you make yourself throw up too?”

“M-mm.”

“No?”

“No. Don't worry.”

Harry turned just enough to look up at Louis and give him a tired smile.

“It's not that serious,” he said. Louis ducked his own head down to place a kiss on Harry's lips.

“I wish I could make you see what I see.”

“So romantic.”

Harry was teasing him, Louis knew, and even though he'd been serious, he let it slide. It hadn't been all Louis had wanted to tell him anyway because that would scare Harry away. It was much too soon for Louis to tell Harry that he loved him. He hadn't done anything to deserve Harry's love in return yet. In all honesty, he didn't know if he would ever deserve Harry's love, but he was going to treat him as if, one day, he would.


	22. Chapter 22

***Niall***

The day that he and Liam went to the movies was the most magical day Niall had experienced since Zayn's pool party, when he'd first started really falling for Liam. To the outside observer, the day probably wouldn't have appeared that special, but Liam had let Niall buy him lunch on the condition that he would pay for the movie tickets. That set-up didn't make much sense since they had spent the same amount of money as they would have if they'd both purchased their own meal and ticket, but Niall didn't care. He'd enjoyed asking for one check and had liked hearing Liam ask for two movie tickets.

Somehow, Niall had managed to not smile too big at any point throughout the day so Liam wouldn't be scared off, but it was hard. Liam hadn't been closed off all day. At the restaurant, he'd been leaned across the table, talking to Niall animatedly, instead of sitting back against his chair with his arms crossed. He'd been smiling and laughing, truly, and without the assistance of alcohol. There had even been a point where Niall had made him laugh so hard that he had done an adorable squeak. After that, Niall had almost been convinced that he could die happy.

Once in the cab on the way to the theater, Liam had kissed Niall and thanked him for lunch. Niall did the same for the tickets after they had taken their seats in the movie.

That night was the only night that Niall had dreaded having to go dance in the show because he wanted to keep Liam to himself for a while longer. Sadly, the two had to head to the stadium as soon as the film had finished. Luckily the stadium-the same one they had performed in the previous night-wasn't far away and so they didn't have to rush in, but could instead take their time strolling inside, hand-in-hand as they discussed what they had just watched. Niall almost sighed once they were in the building and he was forced back to reality by the typical pre-show hustle and bustle.

“Nice that you could finally join us, lads,” Zayn teased, brushing close by Niall and giving a knowing smile. The Irishman rolled his eyes, but the smile refused to come off of his face. Zayn winked before flitting off to whatever destination he had in mind. Niall turned to Liam.

“See? Today wasn't so bad, was it?”

“No,” Liam admitted. “Somethings are much less scary than dates.”

Niall huffed out a laugh, shaking his head.

“Someday, when you're ready, I would like to hear why you're so afraid to call anything a date. Only when you're ready though.”

Niall placed a quick kiss on the other man's cheek and then saved him from trying to find a good reply by speaking again.

“I'm going to go see if I'm needed for anything. I'll see you soon.”

In reality, Niall just wanted to catch up with Zayn, needing to set the record straight of what had really happened with Liam that day.

“It's not what you think,” Niall called out once he had found the man, who gave him a thumbs up and a too-wide grin.

“You two just couldn't get out of bed this morning, eh?” Zayn teased.

“We were on a something,” Niall explained. Zayn's eyebrows raised slightly.

“What the fuck were you on that knocked you out all damn day?”

“No!” Niall laughed. “We weren't on something. We went on a something.”

“What?” Zayn asked, his voice flat. Niall felt as if he was already checking out of this conversation.

“A something,” he said. “It's like a date, but not.”

“Right,” Zayn said, drawing out the word to hint that he thought Niall was crazy. “Normal people are so weird.”

Again, Niall laughed. He knew that Zayn wasn't actually trying to insult him, but he wouldn't have cared if he had been anyway. Niall was pretty sure that nothing could destroy his mood.

In fact, he was almost positive that he had enough energy to last him for two whole shows when he discovered that Liam was skipping hanging around Louis's meet-and-greet session just to stay with him.

***Harry***

It took a lot of convincing for Louis to let him dance that night, even after the doctor had given the okay, but once he ate what Louis deemed 'enough,' the singer reluctantly gave him permission to perform under the oath that he would go backstage and rest if he felt off in any way at all.

Harry actually did eat most of what he led Louis to believe he had. Fainting onstage was possibly the only thing he feared more than going above his food intake limit. For one, it would be embarrassing and he would likely never show his face to anyone ever again, but, more than that, he couldn't do that to Louis. The show would go on, he was sure, but with Louis being the wonderful, caring person he was, it was unlikely that he would enjoy himself after that, and it was clear that he really did have fun when he was onstage performing.

  


Louis wasn't yet needed in hair and makeup when it was time for Harry to get changed into his first costume, so the singer decided to join.

“Here you go, Harry,” the stylist said, handing the outfit to the dancer and, before Harry could stop her, she added, “I hemmed it all up so it should fit better now.”

Harry thanked her, hoping his cheeks weren't actually turning color as he felt that they were, and he pointedly ignored the stare down Louis was giving him.

“I'm sorry for being so unobservant,” Louis commented a few minutes later as the men walked to the makeup station.

“What?” Harry asked, but then realized that he was probably talking about the costume, so was quick to include, “Oh, it was just a little loose. It got stretched out, I think. It's no big deal. I promise.”

Louis continued to stare, not looking convinced, and so Harry kissed him.

“I'm going to the toilet,” he said, and he hated the way that Louis's eyes widened. Harry was sure he would have followed him in there if he hadn't been swept away by Beatrice at that very moment.

“I promise I'll be there in just a second,” Harry called to the singer, who turned and gave him a rather sad look before he was taken around a corner and no longer visible.

Harry didn't really need to use the restroom. He'd just needed to get away, hoping that when he returned, Louis would have forgotten all about the conversation they'd been having.

Though Harry was tempted to purge as he waited in the stall, he didn't, instead choosing to count the next one hundred and twenty seconds before he hurried out of the bathroom. His mind was disappointed in him, but Harry knew that purging would only dehydrate him more and, besides, he would sweat a fair bit of his calories out onstage.

Harry had one foot out the door before he turned back around, closed the door and did some sit-ups; just a few and only to get the panic in his mind to calm down.

When Harry joined Louis in his dressing room, the singer didn't give him his typical welcoming smile. Instead, he raised an eyebrow, a concerned frown on his face.

“Everything is good,” Harry tried to assure him, placing a light kiss to his lips, quickly, so as not to get in the way. Although Harry hadn't purged which should have meant that everything really was okay, they didn't feel that way to him, and he could only hope that Louis believed the words more than he did.

***Louis***

Louis kept a close eye on Harry that night. The poor fans trying to get pictures would probably have to go through a lot of back photos just to find any of his face because Louis couldn't stay facing forward too long, not knowing where Harry was behind him and how he was doing. He seemed fine, but still, Louis knew that he wasn't completely. He wondered if he was a terrible boyfriend for letting him perform, but Harry had desperately wanted to, and, already, Louis found it extremely hard to say no to him, which was both wonderful and terrifying.

Though he wasn't exactly proud of it, Louis had gone back and listened at the door for a minute when Harry had gone into the bathroom. He hadn't heard anything, and so he tried to take comfort in that, but any relief he felt was minimal, partly because Louis also felt guilty for not believing Harry's words that he didn't do that kind of thing. He couldn't help it though because he was so worried. Hiring a tour therapist was seeming better by the day, but he wouldn't yet. He would give Harry a chance to prove his words first because he didn't want to bring up any unpleasant memories from the past, and he hadn't any idea what his dancer had gone through before.

  


“Louis! My favorite star!” Dean greeted once the show was over and Louis made his way backstage for the final time.

“Hey. What are you doing here?” Louis asked as the manager pulled him into a hug. Instead of answering, Dean motioned to Harry, who was watching from a close distance.

“Harry, mate! Come join us!” the older man called. Harry gave Louis an unreadable glance but then made his way over.

“I just wanted to tell you the good news in person,” Dean finally answered Louis's question as Harry stopped by his side, close enough so that their hands brushed together.

“The good news?” Louis urged.

“'Summer Song' is number one on all the major charts!” Dean exclaimed, and Louis smiled, glancing to Harry, who had squeezed his hand lightly. The two shared grins as Dean continued.

“I hope you didn't have any plans for your upcoming few days off,” he said, “because we're going to be filming the music video.”

“I didn't, really,” Louis answered.

“Good,” Dean said. “Start brainstorming ideas and we'll meet up for lunch tomorrow to discuss what we want to do for the video.”

“Okay.”

With all of that being said, Dean gave a firm nod before turning his attention to Harry. He stared at the dancer just a second long enough to make it awkward and then gave him a hug. Louis made a mental note to apologize on Dean's behalf later.

“You're welcome to join the two of us tomorrow, Harry,” the older man told the dancer.

“Thank you,” Harry said noncommittally as Dean let go of him. The manager offered a smile and then excused himself to grab a beer.

“Sorry about-” Louis began, but Harry interrupted with a hard kiss to the lips. Louis made a sound of surprise but when he felt Harry start to pull away, he kissed back hungrily, silently begging him to stay, which he did, for a bit. When they finally did break apart-their moment ruined by a few people cat-calling at them-both had to gasp for breath and Harry blushed, looking embarrassed, as Louis raised an eyebrow; not protesting to what had just happened, but wondering where it had come from, all the same.

“Sorry,” Harry apologized. “I'm just so proud of you.”

Louis was beaming, he knew it, and when Harry smiled in return, Louis kissed him. He decided against telling Harry just how much his words meant to him.

  


The backstage shenanigans couldn't go on long because the crew had to load up on the buses and head off to their next destination. Harry and Louis went back to Louis's bus, and while Harry took his turn showering first, Louis called his mom to fill her in on the day.

After Harry was finished, Louis washed up, doing so quickly. He wondered if Harry would try to get something started again since their last two attempts had failed, but when he exited the bathroom, he saw the dancer sitting up on the couch, but fast asleep. Louis curled up next to him, putting his feet under himself, and gently woke Harry with a kiss on the cheek.

“Sorry,” Louis said. “How are you feeling?”

“I'm fine.”

“You...um...you need to eat something, okay?”

“Yeah, I know.”

Louis nodded, uncurling his legs to stand. Harry stayed seated as Louis went to the kitchen area and listed off their options, looking in the refrigerator, freezer and every cabinet.

“I'll just make a veggie wrap,” Harry said after Louis had finished.

“I don't want to be pushy or anything, Harry, but would you consider adding chicken for protein?” Louis asked. The fact that Harry was willing to eat anything at all was good, but Louis feared a simple veggie wrap wouldn't be enough to stop him from collapsing again.

“Okay,” Harry agreed, surprising Louis, but he smiled and turned quickly, trying to hide the shock from his face.

Louis decided to have the same thing that Harry was having and so while Harry got the vegetables ready, Louis heated the chicken and set the available dressings on the table. He ended up being the only one to add dressing anyway, but that was okay. Harry was doing great.

“Do you have any idea of what you might want to do for your music video?” Harry questioned after a minute of eating in silence.

“Yeah, actually. It's nothing spectacular, but I thought about just setting up a party at my California place and having you dancers and maybe some other members of my crew there. The song is about summer and having a good time, so I want to make it as raw and light as we can.”

“That sounds fun,” Harry said.

“You don't have to be in it if you don't want to,” Louis assured him, picking up on a bit of hesitation in the other's voice, “but I would love if you were. No pressure though, of course.”

“Would I have to skinny dip?” Harry asked teasingly. Louis laughed.

“Not unless you want to,” he said, “though I would be honored if you would be the cute guy that I kiss under the moonlight.”

Harry smiled, his eyes going down to his plate as he picked absently at the tortilla his chicken and vegetables were wrapped in. After only a couple of moments, he raised his head to lock eyes with Louis again.

“Yeah, okay,” he said. Louis's heart did a skip.

“Yeah? You'll be in it?”

“Yeah. Not to sound like _that_ guy, but I really don't want you kissing Liam or someone else.”

Louis laughed, thinking that there was something about jealous Harry which he liked very much.

“I would much rather kiss you than anyone else,” Louis said. A slight tint appeared on Harry's cheeks as he dimple-smiled.

“By the way,” the dancer said next, “how is that new song you're working on coming along?”

“Oh, really good!” Louis told him, perking up. “I think I'll be ready to perform it in the next country.”

“I can't wait to hear the whole, finished product.”

“I'm kind of nervous for you to, honestly.”

“Why?” Harry asked, his eyebrows pulling together in genuine concern. “I loved the chords to it and I really don't not like any of your songs, so I know it's going to be great.”

“Thank you, but...I don't know. Well, I do, but...you'll see.”

Harry's face morphed further into confusion. Louis leaned across the table to kiss him.

“Let's finish eating and get to sleep, yeah? It's been an interesting day.”

  


Instead of going out to lunch with Dean the next day, the manager changed the plans to bringing takeout to Louis's hotel room. It was healthy takeout that even Harry would eat, and Louis was convinced more than ever that Dean hated him. He'd been ready for the greasy burger he'd asked his manager to bring, but he couldn't be too mad because Harry seemed so pleased with his low-fat omelet.

“You two are so cute,” Dean commented, smiling at Louis and Harry, who were sitting on the bed, their knees touching.

“Thanks,” Louis said, tapping Harry's foot lightly with his own. Then, to Dean, he said, “So I have an idea for the video...”

Louis told Dean the idea he'd mentioned to Harry last night and, surprisingly, Dean liked it. He asked Louis to get a count of all who wanted to be in his video by the next night so that he could arrange to fly them all to his place, and then he left to buy decorations, seeming about to explode from excitement.

“He feels things very intensely, doesn't he?” Harry asked after Louis had seen the other man out and went to lay across the bed, his head in his boyfriend's lap.

“He does,” Louis agreed. Feeling lazy, he puckered his lips for a kiss and Harry delighted him by leaning down and pressing his lips against them.

  


The remaining three Australian shows went well and the time between shows was quite enjoyable too. Louis took Harry on a breakfast date and then-finally-to the observatory on their day off, and he took all of the dancers and back-up band to a nearby aquarium before their last performance in the country. The whole time they were looking at the fish and other marine animals, Harry didn't let go of Louis's hand and Louis, of course, hadn't wanted him to. By some miracle, they weren't spotted or, if they were, they at least weren't approached, and it was the most relaxed that Louis had ever seen his boyfriend.

  


Only one dancer wasn't going to be able to participate in Louis's music video and, for the rest of them, Dean changed their previously booked flights home to take them to California, where they were put in a nice hotel unless they had places to stay nearby; or if they were Harry, who was staying with Louis.

“Home! I've missed you!” Louis exclaimed dramatically upon their arrival, throwing open the front door and holding his arms out grandly. From behind him, Harry giggled.

“I'm sure it missed you too,” he said.

“I have a guest bedroom,” Louis commented as the two made their way upstairs with their bags. “You can stay in there if you want but, of course, if you'd like to stay with me, I would much enjoy your company.”

“That's a rather large bed,” Harry commented, eyeing the king-sized bed, adorned with a deep red comforter and gold throw pillows. “I feel as if you would be lonely sleeping in that by yourself.”

“It is rather lonely,” Louis agreed, not commenting on the sexual undertones that Harry probably hadn't meant to place in his words, but which were there, regardless. “I've spent many nights that way.”

“Aw,” Harry said, touching Louis's cheek gently and then sticking out his tongue. Louis smiled and, once Harry lowered his hand, the singer went to his dresser and began moving clothes from the top drawer.

“You can have this one,” he told the other. “It will give you a little break from living out of bags.”

“Thanks, but you don't have to...”

“I know, but I hate living out of bags, so I feel like everyone else does too.”

Without waiting for a reply, Louis went to the bathroom connected to his bedroom and began emptying one of those drawers as well. Harry joined as Louis placed his last loose item in its new living spot.

“This one is for you too,” he said and, smiling, Harry went to grab his bathroom materials.

“I feel so special that I have a drawer now,” Harry said, sliding close behind Louis so that he could enter the bathroom and begin putting his makeup away. Heat rose to Louis's face and, desperately needing to distract himself, Louis picked up the lip gloss that the man had just put away.

“I really like this shade,” he said, and it was the truth. It was a dark red; almost purple color and Louis decided that he had to soon see what it looked like against Harry's pale skin and dark hair. He bet it was amazing.

“Oh. Thanks,” Harry said. “I don't wear actual colors too often, but sometimes I get in the mood.”

“I'm sure they look gorgeous on you,” Louis said. “Especially this one.”

Harry took the gloss from Louis and checked the name before unscrewing the top and carefully applying it to his lips. Louis watched, in awe by how effortlessly and flawlessly Harry applied the color.

“Yep,” the singer said once Harry had smacked his lips a couple of times and sealed up his makeup again. “Gorgeous.”

Instead of replying, Harry leaned down and placed a big, wet kiss on Louis's cheek, leaving his lip stain on the skin.

“I'm never washing that cheek again,” Louis said. Harry legitimately cackled, and then cleared his throat, trying to pull himself together. Once he succeed, he gave Louis the once-over before lifting him from his feet and setting him on the counter; Harry keeping his arms around the other's waist to help him balance.

“Can I experiment with your face?” he asked, blinking his beautiful green eyes rather seductively, Louis thought.

“You mean with makeup?” Louis verified, causing Harry to redden.

“Yes.”

“Go ahead.”

Harry hummed as he sifted through his makeups, explaining to Louis that he was picking the best shades for his skin tone and eye color. Once he had made his choices and washed his own lip print from the other's cheek, he began working. His touch was gentle, but the eyeshadow tickled, and Louis couldn't help but to giggle. Harry huffed out a laugh as well and kissed Louis's nose before continuing to work, asking him to please try to hold still.

“Done,” Harry said not much later, stepping back to admire his work. “You're so beautiful, Lou.”

Louis hopped off the counter, turning around to look at his reflection in the mirror. Seeing himself so made up was a new experience for him, but it didn't look bad.

“You did a really good job,” Louis told the other man, “but no amount of makeup can make me as pretty as you.”

“You're full of shit,” Harry commented, kissing Louis's lips.

“I was telling the truth,” Louis insisted when they broke apart, but then changed the subject, knowing that Harry would never agree with him, even though he was right. “I need to upload a picture.”

Harry moved out of the shot as Louis took a selfie and uploaded it to his social media.

“I tagged you as the makeup artist,” he told Harry once he was done. “Hey, can we take a picture togeher? I won't upload it or anything. I just want one on my phone.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed. Half in shock that Harry had allowed it, Louis smiled as he held his camera up and flipped it to selfie mode. Then, both he and Harry laughed as they continued to stand there, staring at their own reflections and each other's, unsure what to do next.

“How are we posing?” Harry asked, still with an amused smile on his face.

“Hm,” Louis hummed, thinking quick, and then he stood on his tiptoes to place a kiss on Harry's cheek, half smirking while doing so as he saw just how cute they looked in the camera. Even Harry was smiling and Louis decided not to chastise him for looking at Louis's image instead of his own when the picture was taken.

“Love it,” Louis sang. “Do you want to see?”

“Okay,” Harry said after a brief hesitation. His eyes scanned the image quickly, but when he looked away, he smiled and gave a nod. “It's cute.”

“It's perfect,” Louis said. “See how photogenic you are?”

“No, I do not,” Harry returned, “but it wasn't a bad picture.”

“I love it,” Louis said again as he set it as his home screen.

“I need one for my lock screen too,” he commented and, though he rolled his eyes, Harry was smiling and he leaned down to kiss Louis's cheek instead. When his lips lingered there, Louis got the hint and took the picture. That one came out even better, he thought.

“Perfect,” he said again, but his stomach interrupted any chance for Harry to protest by growling.

“Hungry?” Harry asked.

“I am,” Louis said. “Are you?”

“Kind of, I guess.”

“What sounds good to eat?”

“You decide. I'm up for anything.”

“Burgers?”

Louis still wasn't quite over the fact that he'd been forced to eat a healthy omelet instead of a burger when Dean had brought them lunch.

Harry nodded in agreement.

“I'm so excited!” Louis said, using his sing-song voice again. “I had one of my mates stock up my place yesterday and if he knows me at all, he would have gotten stuff for burgers. I'll go ahead and start the grill up.”

“Do you need any help?” Harry asked.

“Would you like to make salad?” Louis questioned. Harry smiled and almost looked relieved.

“Yeah, I can do that,” he said.

As Harry got things put together inside, Louis worked at the grill, humming and letting his mind wander as he worked. He wondered if it was too early to think about Harry moving in with him after the tour was over. It probably was, but that was all Louis could think about. As long as he knew that, logically, it was still highly likely that things wouldn't work out and didn't let himself get too emotionally vested in the idea, he didn't think it was a problem. He could dream about how great it would be coming home from a long day in the studio to Harry, and cooking dinner with him every evening. It would be wonderful to fall asleep next to him every night and wake up with him every morning. He wouldn't say any of these things out loud yet, but one day, he hoped that he could.

  


Once dinner was ready, Louis helped Harry set up the table on the back patio and, as it was nearing dark already, Louis flipped on the party lights and turned on some music softly before they settled.

“This would be a perfect scene for tomorrow,” Harry commented as he cut off a piece of his bun-less burger and pushed it around his plate before taking a small bite off of it.

“It would look neat, wouldn't it?” Louis agreed, possible scenarios popping in his head; particularly of the different places he could kiss Harry.

“Do you like making music videos?” Harry asked. “I always thought it would be fun, but I'm sure it's a lot more work than people think.”

“It is a lot of work, but it's fun,” Louis said. “Some are more enjoyable than others, but I think this one will be the funnest so far. I hope it will, at least.”

“Everyone's excited for it.”

Louis smiled. “Good.”

They continued to eat in silence, but the great thing about this point in their relationship was that there didn't have to be constant conversation. The two were content to just be in each other's company.

“Oh,” Harry said towards the end of the meal, patting himself down. “I left my phone inside. I'll be right back. Sorry. My mum said she was going to call me before she went to bed and I'm sure you know how mums get if you miss their call.”

“I do,” Louis said, smiling to go along with Harry's grin. “Are you still eating?” he asked as Harry began to walk away, because Louis didn't think he'd touched the food for at least a couple of minutes.

“No, I'm finished, but I'll clean up when I get back out.”

“It's fine. I'll clean up and then I'll come back out here if you want to meet me once you're ready.”

“I would love to.”

Louis quickly cleaned up the mess from dinner and then, choosing his best bottle of wine, went back outside. He felt quite relaxed with his bare feet dipped in the water as he sipped on his drink, and he hummed to himself until, finally, the back door opened and out stepped Harry.

“Sorry,” the dancer said, taking off his shoes.

“What for?” Louis asked as Harry sat down beside him and stuck his feet into the water as well. Louis offered the bottle he was drinking from to Harry, who took a small sip before replying.

“That took longer than I expected. She'd already called and I had to ring her back before she went to sleep.”

“It's quite alright. Family comes first.”

Harry smiled and Louis returned it briefly before sighing contently and resting his head on the other's shoulder, setting the wine beside of him. Harry sighed in the same manner and Louis could smell peppermint on his breath. Suddenly, the singer became self-conscious, realizing he should have been better prepared for kissing. Well, perhaps he could go inside and freshen up before any of that began, but for the time being, he was too comfortable to move.

“Thanks for coming out to do the video with me,” he spoke. “I'm sure you were looking forward to spending time with your family during the next few days.”

“It's okay,” Harry assured him. “I'll see them soon enough.”

“I'm sure they don't feel the same way.”

“They'll be okay.”

Louis chuckled, but that turned into a yawn.

“Jet lag, man,” he sighed, nuzzling his face further into Harry's shoulder. In return, Harry pulled him even closer.

“Maybe you should get to sleep,” he suggested. “Tomorrow will be a busy day.”

“But I don't want to.”

“Why not?”

“Because...I don't want to close my eyes...I don't want to fall asleep cuz I'd miss you, babe.”

Louis had spoken the words, not sung them, and so he couldn't tell if that was the reason Harry snorted or if it was just because he was being cheesy again.

“You're cute,” Harry said, so either way, Louis supposed he wasn't bothered. The singer smiled, hoping that Harry could feel it against his body, and didn't say anything; just let his eyes close until Harry spoke again.

“Thank you, Lou.”

“You're welcome,” Louis said, his voice already sounding sleepy, “but what am I being thanked for?”

“For being a better person than I ever imagined you would be, and my standards were set pretty high, I'll have you know. It's actually pretty embarrassing to admit, but teenage Harry had you put on a pedestal. Now I know that you deserved it and just...thanks.”

Louis had to swallow a few times, feeling choked up. It always meant a lot to him when he got huge, genuine compliments like that, but coming from Harry, it felt ten times deeper.

“I don't think I'm amazing as you think I am,” Louis said once he trusted himself to talk again, because while he was flattered that Harry thought so highly of him, it was also terrifying because that left more chance for Louis to unintentionally let him down.

“You are,” Harry said. “Trust me.”

“I can't trust you when you don't even like yourself,” Louis retorted, and then moved to kiss Harry.

“I think I like who I am when it's just you and me,” Harry replied, his voice lower and deeper than normal. Louis nearly shivered despite the sticky hot night air.

“It's a start,” he said, aggravated that his voice had grown higher. He cleared his throat. “I need to thank you too, Harry.”

“What could you possibly be thanking me for?” Harry asked.

“Well...I would answer you, but you're going to think it's cheesy.”

“You are a cheese ball, but you can get away with it.”

“Um, well, it's just...I don't know where we'll end up together or as individuals. I know where I hope we end up, but I don't know what will actually happen. Anyway, no matter what, I need to thank you now simply for coming into my life because I know you won't understand, but I needed someone like you. Actually, I'm not sure anyone else would do, no matter how similar. I think I just needed you.”

Harry tilted his head, looking concerned, which wasn't what Louis had expected at all. He had thought Harry would laugh it off, tell Louis he was ridiculous and proceed to insult himself.

“Are you okay, Lou?” Harry asked, his deep voice going softer. For some reason, it made heat rise to Louis's cheeks.

“I'm totally cool,” he said lamely, waving his hand around obnoxiously. “Just um, yeah, thanks, I, uh...This isn't going well at all. Can you please kiss me?”

Harry did, though the worry never left his face, so Louis made sure to smile once they broke apart.

“Okay, and with all of that being said, I also need to tell you that I want you happy and I always want you to do the best thing for you. Don't think about anyone else's wants or needs. Just do what's best for _you_.”

“You,” Harry said immediately. “You're what's best for me.”

In the next instant, Harry was kissing Louis again, and with much more force. So much for Louis freshening up, but Harry didn't seem to mind. He searched Louis's mouth with his tongue, making small sounds of pleasure, though some of the noises were coming from Louis, who suddenly wasn't all that tired anymore.

Before Louis could really register what was happening, Harry had slid his hands up his shirt and was sliding it above Louis's head. Louis gasped, though not from any negative feeling, and he found it way too hot when Harry balled up the clothing and threw it to the side nonchalantly.

“Harry,” Louis said, but he didn't actually have anything else to say, which was okay because Harry only continued to kiss him, from his lips to his chin and down his neck until he reached his chest.

“I think inside would probably be more comfortable,” Harry said, and Louis got to his feet so fast that he nearly plummeted into the pool. Luckily, Harry grabbed onto his arm and, acting as if that little blunder hadn't happened, the pair hurried inside and up the stairs. As soon as they were at the top, their lips were together again and they made their way awkwardly, yet pleasurably, to the bedroom. At first, Louis reached out a hand, looking for the light switch, but then paused, his hand resting on some random part of the wall.

“Lights off?” he asked.

“Please,” Harry said, and so Louis moved his searching hand to rest against the back of Harry's head. Still kissing, they slowly made their way to the bed, where Louis laid down and Harry leaned over top of him, their lips barely breaking contact for more than a second.

While having sex with someone new for the first time could sometimes be awkward, Louis loved every part of it. He loved learning the other person's body and what they liked or weren't a fan of. He loved it even more now that it was Harry. He learned, he thought, every small curve of his thin body and discovered that, while Harry liked his ears touched and his neck kissed, he recoiled a bit whenever Louis's hands roamed over his waist, stomach or lower thighs. As a result, Louis made sure to keep his hands wrapped around Harry's biceps or tangled in his hair and, though he instantly fell in love with Harry's narrow hips, flat stomach and toned thighs, not being able to touch them didn't make the night any less enjoyable. In fact, if he were to write about that moment in time, he thought he could create a whole album and still not be able to properly convey just how amazing he felt, or how wonderful he wanted to make Harry feel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it wasn't updated this past weekend, but I am going to go ahead and give you a heads up that it won't be updated this weekend either. The next chapter probably will not be up until next Wednesday or Thursday, but I am going to try to post that weekend as well. Anyway, I'm sorry about this :(
> 
> And I'm also sorry for my inability to write a proper sex scene XD Every time I start a new story, I tell myself that it will be the time I write legitimate sexy times, but I just don't think I have that talent. I hope you got the picture well enough ;)
> 
> Thanks to everyone for the support with this fic so far. I'm going to get slightly personal for just a second and say that a lot of things have gone to hell since beginning this and it's sometimes a struggle to continue, but getting all of this love from you all really helps :) (And I won't give up on it, I promise!) 
> 
> Ok, I'll stop blabbing.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so what happened was...Well, a lot, but I will spare you the details. Basically, I was gone for a lot longer than expected and I was unable to write. So, again, sorry the late update! I'm not sure now how early the next chapter will be, but I'll try to get it up ASAP. I really am sorry and thank you for the patience <3

***Harry***

Harry and Louis fell asleep quickly after they'd finished, limbs tangled, somehow comfortably, with one another's. When Harry woke only a couple of hours later, he didn't want to move. Louis's head was nestled into his side and he could feel the man's chest moving slowly up and down as soft breaths escaped his nose and his slightly opened mouth. He looked so peaceful and, honestly, Harry felt at peace too. Louis gave off a lot of heat for having such a little body, and mixed with the sticky summer night temperature, Harry felt himself sweating just a bit, but he would take this warmth over the cold he felt when Louis wasn't around any day.

But then Harry realized what woke him in the first place; his bladder.

Sighing quietly, Harry carefully untangled himself from Louis. The singer whined and stirred, his eyes fluttering open for a brief moment, but Harry whispered for him to stay asleep and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, which lulled him back into unconsciousness. Smiling, because right now his life felt like the wonderfully unrealistic part of a movie, Harry got out of bed.

He was right; the slight chill he felt at the lack of contact with Louis felt more like a block of ice piercing through him, and that was pathetic, so Harry pretended he hadn't just created that metaphor in his head and found his shirt and boxers in the dark and slipped them on before walking to the bathroom. The self-consciousness that overwhelmed him when he realized he'd been so close to Louis and completely naked-all of his flaws exposed-banished any embarrassment he had felt over his own cheesiness. Louis had seen and worse, felt, all of his imperfections already, and Harry knew he really had no one to blame but himself. Louis had been willing to let him keep his shirt on during their romance, but eventually, it just got in the way so Harry, in the heat of the moment, worked up the courage to take it off and toss it far away from the bed; out of sight, out of mind.

Now that his mind was overworking, Harry wondered if that had been such a good idea after all. Maybe Louis hadn't wanted him to take his shirt off; hadn't wanted to see.

Taking a deep breath, because he was not going to cry after sex, even if a couple hours had passed, Harry entered the bathroom, closing the door before he turned on the light so as not to wake Louis again. The light exposed Harry's reflection in the mirror across from him, and Harry was actually kind of proud that he looked like a wreck. His hair was a mess, his lips red and puffy and his eyes bright despite the fact that he'd just woken up after such a little amount of sleep.

Harry smiled again, quite liking how his face looked like that, but he tugged down on his shirt, still worried about that whole issue.

Once Harry was through with his business, he gave his face one last, approving glance and then opened the door, exposing a naked Louis standing on the other side, visible only by the moonlight seeping into the room through the curtains.

“Hey, babe,” the singer greeted, his voice hoarse from sleep and other recent activities. It was hot, but Harry felt bad and hoped it returned to normal after a bit more rest and perhaps a cup of tea in the morning.

Louis stood on his tiptoes to give Harry a kiss on the neck and then the lips, and then he flipped on the bathroom light, causing both of them to wince, before sitting on the closed toilet lid and staring off into space.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Louis said. “Just tired, and also I didn't know if we were at the point in our relationship where I can take a piss in front of you.”

Harry laughed, relieved. He'd been worried, of course, that Louis had suddenly remembered a shirtless Harry probably nearly squishing him last night and had become disgusted.

“I don't care,” Harry said, “but I'm going back to bed anyway.”

“I'll be there in a minute.”

It did really only take a minute. Harry had barely settled again before Louis was exiting the bathroom, clearing his throat as he climbed onto the bed and kissed Harry. He'd brushed his teeth while in the bathroom and Harry realized that he probably should have as well. He was probably more than a little disgusting at the moment, but if Louis cared, he didn't make it obvious.

Harry reached out, running a hand down Louis's toned stomach as Louis moved his kisses to Harry's ear, causing him to shiver. Louis giggled a little; not making fun of Harry, just amused at his ability to so easily bring out that reaction in him, and then he collapsed on top of him. Harry was glad that Louis wasn't treating him as if he were fragile anymore. He must have proved himself with his performance last night.

“Good night, Harry,” Louis said for the second time that night.

“Good night,” Harry returned, running his fingernails lightly along Louis's bare back; not nearly enough to scratch. Louis gave a soft, non-sexual moan and, before even two minutes had passed, he was asleep again.

“I-,” Harry began, wanting to whisper, 'I love you,' to Louis, but instead, he cleared his throat, swallowed down the words and eventually fell back to sleep.

  


Both men were startled awake by a crash from downstairs the next morning. Though Harry jumped, Louis _really_ jumped; flying upwards so fast that he appeared to make himself dizzy. Harry grabbed him around the middle, steadying him as they both strained their ears, listening. They didn't really have to strain.

“Nice!” a booming voice called, hands clapping together slowly and loudly.

“What the fuck?” Louis asked, yawning and rubbing his eyes. Harry thought he should probably be more concerned, as there was at least one unknown person in his home, but then again, if it had been a burglar or something, they probably wouldn't have been so loud.

“Do you want me to go check it out for you?” Harry asked as Louis climbed off top of him and began to get into a pair of sweats.

“I'm almost ready. We'll go down together,” Louis said. Harry nodded.

Louis kept Harry behind him as they ventured downstairs, their hands laced somewhat awkwardly together. Belatedly, Harry realized that he was still in his underwear, but he wasn't going to leave Louis to discover the stranger in his home alone, so he blushed and sucked it up.

The person-persons, actually-weren't strangers at all. One of them was Dean and the other was a woman that Harry didn't know, but she looked familiar, so he assumed that she was connected to Louis in some way.

“Now look what you did, Jay!” Dean exclaimed to the woman. “You woke up the boys! I'm sure they had a long night last night.”

Harry's blush deepened, feeling as if his boxer-clad body and, worse, his wrecked face, proved Dean's words. He wanted to run back upstairs and hide, but he didn't.

“That is my baby boy you're talking about, Dean,” the woman scolded. “He is much too young for the stuff you are insinuating.”

“Oh yeah,” Louis said sarcastically, letting go of Harry's hand to go give the woman a hug, stepping over broken pieces of glass from an apparent coffee mug on the floor. Harry wanted to ask him to stop, terrified that he was going to cut his bare feet on a stray shard, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Careful, careful,” the lady told him, and then smiled in relief once he reached her side without being harmed.

“Harry,” Louis said, turning around to face his boyfriend with his arm still around the woman's middle, “this is my mum, Jay. Now you know where I get my beauty and grace from.”

“Well, you're definitely beautiful,” Harry said, and he was talking to Louis, but Jay was as well. Louis looked a lot like her, actually.

Both mother and son smiled and then Jay let go of the man to step over the pieces of the broken mug and shake Harry's hand.

“I'm so happy to meet you, Harry,” she said.

“You too,” Harry said, and he was, just...not in his boxers with his face looking as it did. Sure, Harry had liked the way it had looked last night in his post-sex haze, but he hadn't particularly wanted to meet Louis's mother looking like the result of her son's love making.

“This wasn't how I was planning on introducing you two,” Louis spoke, thinking along the same path as Harry. “What are you doing here?”

“Dean and I have already been here for nearly two hours, decorating your backyard for the video,” Jay explained.

“You two left the lights and music on outside last night, along with a nearly full bottle of wine sitting by the pool that a bug got into. Such a waste. You boys must have gone inside in a hurry. We'd thought you'd been kidnapped.”

Harry knew his face had to look like a tomato by that point, but luckily, Jay took mercy.

“You leave them alone, Dean.”

“Alright, alright. In all seriousness, though, I suggest you two get your showers. We should have woken you up long ago. Makeup will be here soon and I'm sure it won't be too much later that the other dancers start to arrive.”

“I'll cook breakfast while you get ready,” Jay volunteered. “What would you both like?”

Louis looked questioningly to Harry, who suddenly felt nauseous at the thought of eating.

“Whatever you want,” he told Louis.

“Waffles,” Louis told his mother right away, and of course he wanted sugar.

“Perfect,” Jay said.

“I can help with breakfast while Louis showers,” Harry offered, wanting to be polite, but also wanting to delay his shower. Jay told him that his help would be lovely and so, while Louis was upstairs getting cleaned up and Dean went to the back to put finishing touches on the décor, Harry and Jay worked in the kitchen. Even though Harry felt awkward at first, he relaxed quickly at the easy way that Jay made light conversation. She was really nice, even though Harry knew she had to probably be confused as to why her son liked him. Harry was in the same boat as her, and he hoped she knew that.

With perfect timing, Louis made his way downstairs just as the tea was finishing and the trio ate, the light conversation still going. Harry ate one waffle and, though he'd tried to eat it syrup-less, he found that it was too hard to get down that way, so he caved and drizzled some maple syrup onto his breakfast.

He was weak.

After his single waffle was gone, Harry cleaned up his dishes and then hurried upstairs. He grabbed an outfit, not really concentrating on what it was since he would likely be forced to change anyway, and then shut himself in the bathroom, turning on the water before getting in the shower.

As he undressed, Harry studied himself in the mirror, feeling sick still. Logically, he knew eating juts one waffle wasn't all that bad and that he definitely couldn't see the effect on his weight yet, even though he felt as if he could-as if everyone could-but he had seen the butter that had been used to cook them. That butter, perhaps more than the sugary syrup, was bound to stick to him and make him blow up, probably just in time to start filming the video. The camera added ten pounds anyway, and so Harry really needed all the help he could get.

He told himself not to, but Harry supposed he'd known from the moment Louis suggested waffles that he was going to end up purging.

He did it methodically; not thinking while he did it. It wasn't supposed to act as an emotional release that time; it was just a routine procedure for looking as if he would ever have the slightest chance of being the guy who Louis chose to kiss out of everyone else.

***Louis***

“Harry is gorgeous, Lou, and so, so sweet,” Jay told her son after a safe amount of time had passed since Harry had gone upstairs.

“I know,” Louis said, a grin spreading across his face. “He's amazing.”

The smile on Jay's face was even wider and brighter than Louis's. Still, since she was a mom, she had to ask,

“You definitely think he's in this for the right reasons then?”

“Yeah,” Louis said immediately. He trusted Harry, whether he should or not, though there was no part of him that told him he shouldn't.

“Good,” Jay said. “I like him already, and I like looking at you with him. You deserve to be happy, Lou.”

“I know,” Louis said, shocking even himself.

  


The chaos of getting ready for the video shoot caused Louis to keep losing track of Harry, but, somehow, whenever Louis realized he'd escaped and called his name, Harry was suddenly by his side, assuring Louis that he was there.

The point of the video, besides being a simple summer bash, was to have Harry as the love interest that Louis never really got until the end. It wasn't that Harry didn't like him too, but at first, it was his shyness that made him harder for Louis to reach. Then, as he started opening up more, other interruptions began happening. Louis was pulled away to take shots, to play beer pong, to host a dancing competition, to skinny dip…

Harry received many praises from Dean and the director on his acting abilities every time he turned shyly away from Louis, singing closely in front of him or when he burst into nervous giggles, and Louis wasn't doubting Harry's acting abilities, but he felt as if the reactions he received were genuine. The 'shy' persona was topped off by Harry insisting that he wore a shirt along with his swim trunks.

“You're beautiful,” Louis whispered one time after 'cut' had been yelled. He wasn't saying it for the cameras or the audience. He was just saying it for Harry, who smiled and gave Louis a quick peck on the cheek.

Once it was time to shoot the skinny dipping scene, it was Louis's turn to get shy. That scene was completely optional for everyone except Louis, but luckily, he didn't do it alone; Liam volunteered (unsurprisingly) as well as four of his other dancers. Fortunately, Jay allowed herself to sit inside while that scene was being filmed, feeling just as awkward as Louis.

“You have nothing to be self-conscious of,” Harry told Louis when his naked body was wrapped only in a towel which was to be taken away from him in just a few moments. “But if you really don't want to do this, then you don't have to.”

“It's okay,” Louis said, not mentioning that he did, kind of, have to do this whether he wanted to or not.

“You're beautiful,” Harry said, returning Louis's earlier words to him right before the skinny dippers were called to action. They all lined up at the pool, giving each other nervous, 'we're-in-this-together' smiles and then, once action was called, they dropped their towels one by one, as instructed. It seemed as if they stood on the side of the pool like that for an hour but was likely only five or so seconds before they were told to jump in and they did, coming up from the water laughing, hollering and splashing each other.

Louis didn't know if Harry was told to do this or if he had simply forgotten that the camera was rolling, but soon, he was at the pool's side, offering the singer a towel and a hand.

“You gonna blur the front?” Louis asked his director, who nodded. Smiling up at Harry, Louis allowed him to pull him from the pool and quickly wrap the towel around his middle. They looked in each other's eyes, and Louis knew he wasn't supposed to kiss him yet, but it was so hard. He thought about going for it and letting them edit it out later because Harry's full lips and sparkling eyes were pretty much asking for it, but then Tina quickly approached to smack Harry in the head with a pool noddle and, laughing, Harry turned from Louis and chased her. So it probably was in the script then, and Louis smiled as he crossed his arms, walking slowly to the bar as he watched Harry run after the woman.

“All good?” Louis asked once they were released for a short break and Harry came up to him, slightly out of breath.

“Good,” Harry assured him, sitting at the nearby patio table.

“Harry,” Louis said in a warning tone, and Harry smiled.

“I'm good,” Harry said again, and Louis was forced to drop the subject when he was whisked away to have his hair fixed.

Finally, they reached the final scene where Louis and Harry got to kiss under the moonlight in front of the pool, at the perfect spot where the party lights and neon bar in the background were visible. Louis sang the last couple of lines of the song to him and then, as the music began to fade, their lips locked, their eyes shutting in perfect time. The two kissed and kissed, waiting for 'cut' to be called, but it never was, so they continued on. It wasn't awkward, but Louis thought that if they didn't yell 'cut' soon, that it would become so because he could only control himself for so long when Harry's tongue was in his mouth.

Just as Louis was about to break away and ask what the deal was-he didn't want to, but it was a necessity, really-he felt a rough shove against his shoulder and both he and Harry went flailing into the pool, trying to keep a hold of each other, but forced apart once they hit the water.

“I'm sorry!” Liam yelled, holding up his hands defensively as the two came up, coughing and sputtering. “They told me to!”

Liam ran, but Harry and Louis only laughed, gasping a few more times to catch their breath as they swam towards each other and just began to kiss again.

“Alright, you two that's enough. Get a room,” Dean said after a few moments, and Louis smiled as he pulled away from Harry.

They got out of the pool, but when Harry shivered, Louis kissed him again, and he heard Dean cuss as, yet again, Harry kissed him back. They only stopped when Louis swept Harry off the ground, holding him bridle style, and Harry gasped.

“Don't worry, babe,” Louis said. “I've got you.”

Harry smiled, leaning up to peck Louis's lips, but Louis hoped Harry knew that he meant his words and that he meant them more than just having him, physically, for the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also sorry about the no Niam. I'm going to try to make up for a bunch of stuff soon!


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this is edited even worse than usual! It's late, but I didn't want you all to have to wait another day for an update.

***Niall***

“That's a wrap, everybody!” the director of the music video announced after nearly a whole minute of waiting for Harry and Louis to finish kissing. It was only then that the pair finally broke apart, holding their interlocked hands in the air and cheering along with everybody else. It had been a fun day, but an exhausting one, so all were elated that they could finally call it a night.

Louis's way of 'calling it a night' was to bust out the alcohol; the hard stuff, since the alcohol used in the video had only been the light drinks that weren't enough to get anybody drunk.

“Thank you all again for coming and helping me with the video,” Louis announced to the crowd after he and Harry had changed into dry clothes. Louis was standing on his patio table, shouting into a megaphone with a shot glass filled to the brim with some dark liquor held halfway in the air. Niall thought he may have been a bit slap happy, but the singer's smile was contagious and even Harry, who was standing close by, ready to catch him if he fell, was beaming.

“I can't wait to see the finished product,” Louis continued, “and you all are, of course, invited along to watch it for the very first time. For now, though, let's just celebrate a great day! Drinks are at the bar and in the cooler, and pizza is on its way! Stay as long as you want!”

Cheers again filled the backyard as Louis set down his megaphone and accepted Harry's hand to get down from the table. Once safe on the ground, Niall saw him wrap his arms around the dancer's neck and place a passionate kiss to his lips, and then he looked away because, while the two were adorable and Niall was really happy for them, he had seen enough of their intimate life for the day.

“Well, that was fun,” Niall said, turning to Liam, who had been standing close behind him. Liam smiled.

“Yeah, it was,” he agreed.

“Hey, guys!”

Niall turned again to face a newly approached Harry and Louis. Apparently a simple kiss had satisfied them that time, and they were both smiling with a couple drinks in their hands, respectively.

“Want one?” Louis asked, holding both of his bottles out to Niall and Liam.

“Yes,” Liam said without hesitation, taking the drink gently but quickly. Niall tried to tell himself not to think anything of it because Liam had been really good recently. He didn't think he'd had any alcoholic beverages the whole plane ride to California, and he hadn't consumed any at the hotel the previous night either. The two had watched movies, eaten popcorn and drank simple sodas. It would have been better if they had been cuddling on one of their beds with one popcorn bowl in between the two instead of on their separate beds with their individual bags, but that was okay because once they had finally decided, after the third movie, to go to sleep and the light was turned off, Liam had made his way from his bed to Niall's, laying down without waiting for permission and placing a soft kiss to the other's neck. Niall had been glad that it was dark because his smile was ridiculously wide, but he regained his composure quickly and turned to put his arms comfortably around Liam's figure. It was then that Liam gave him a kiss on the lips; just a quick, sweet smooch, and that, to Niall, was better than any heated kiss would have been.

When Niall woke up that morning, Liam was already up and out of bed, doing push ups on the floor, but Niall had woken a couple times briefly during the night to find the pair still wrapped closely together, so he was happy, and after brushing his teeth, he placed himself by Liam's feet while he did sit-ups, offering a kiss every time he came up until he tired and wrapped his arms around Niall's waist, pulling him down on top of him and continuing to kiss him while lying on the floor.

All of that had felt very boyfriend-y, which Niall, of course, knew better than to say. Liam wasn't his boyfriend and Niall still had no claim on him whatsoever. Liam was still free to get drunk and flirt with whoever he desired, and Niall accepted that even though he knew it would hurt worse than ever now. It was his own fault because he knew what he had been getting into from the start, and he had no regrets. No matter what happened, he wouldn't have any regrets over it, ever.

Liam did get borderline trashed at Louis's that night and Niall lost him once, but instead of finding him tangled up with someone else, Niall came back upon Liam while he was shoving pizza into his mouth, not finishing chewing one bite before he took another. With a laugh of admiration and relief, Niall joined his side.

“Hello!” Liam greeted, his mouth full, and Niall probably should have been grossed out, but he wasn't in the slightest. Liam held out his pizza, offering Niall a bite, which he accepted, though more of the food got on his chin than in his mouth as the slice kept flopping over whenever Liam almost had it to Niall's mouth. Neither could stop themselves from giggling until Liam choked on his huge bite.

“You okay?” Niall asked, rubbing Liam's back once he had stopped coughing and took a drink, his eyes watering.

“Yeah!” Liam said cheerily. He blinked the tears away and then used his finger to wipe some excess sauce from Niall's face. Then, of course, he found it only suiting to suck the sauce from his finger. The images of Liam skinny dipping rushed back to Niall in a flood, but he forced them away. It wasn't an easy task, but Niall was a strong minded person, so he prevailed.

“Are we leaving soon?” Liam, who, unable to find a napkin, wiped his hands on his swim trunks, asked.

“Do you want to?” Niall asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “I'm tired.”

“Wow. Party boy calling it an early night, huh?” Niall teased, even though it was after one o' clock in the morning.

“Party boy is getting old,” Liam said with a serious nod before he did that thing where he giggled and scrunched up his eyes and nose. Niall wished he could kiss him, but he didn't think Liam would appreciate that in front of everyone. They might think something serious was going on with them or something.

“So old,” Niall said instead.

The two found Louis to tell him that they were leaving, and all three shared hugs and thank yous.

“Hey, where did Harry go?” Liam asked as Louis and Niall were letting go of each other.

“I sent him to bed. He looked nearly dead on his feet,” Louis explained, smiling.

“Making a music video is exhausting,” Liam agreed, doing his serious nod again.

“Maybe kick everyone out soon,” Niall suggested to the singer. “You need some rest too.”

Louis hadn't stopped smiling, but his grin grew.

“Thank you for coming,” he said again, and that was that.

  


Liam fell asleep on Niall's shoulder on the way to the hotel, and Niall really didn't want to wake him, but was unable to figure out a way he could pull him from the cab without injuring one of them if not.

Though he was out of it at first, holding onto Niall's hand tightly and still stumbling while looking around the place, confused, when they got to their floor, Liam readjusted his hold on Niall's hand and began running down the hall, forcing Niall to run along with him.

“Uh, are you okay?” Niall asked when they stopped in front of the door (Liam almost falling as he came to an abrupt halt) and the drunk was attempting to open the door with his room key. Liam didn't answer, but gave a 'woop' as he successfully unlocked the door and pulled Niall inside with him. He closed the door quickly, pushing Niall lightly against it as he began kissing him, and Niall wasn't complaining, but the shock prevented him from kissing back for a couple of moments. When they broke apart, Liam giggled.

“Well,” Niall said, and then stopped because all other words failed him.

“Sorry,” Liam said, though his smile was unapologetic. “People always run down hotel hallways holding hands in movies.”

“So you want to live like the movies now?” Niall asked, one eyebrow quirked up hopefully. Life wasn't like a movie, of course, but Niall would make it the closest he could for Liam.

“Maybe for just a minute,” Liam said, staring into Niall's eyes. Though they could barely see each other, neither having turned on the light yet, Niall felt as if they were having a 'moment.' This was the time that he should say or do something monumental, and his brain was working hard on coming up with just what that should be, but before he had succeeded, Liam backed up a little, his shoulders tensing as his breath hitched.

“Uh, hold on, I think I have to throw up,” he said, and maybe he shouldn't have, but Niall couldn't help but to laugh because _of course._

“Need me?” he asked as Liam began making his way to the bathroom, not in any particular rush.

“Oh, I need you,” the drunk replied, his voice soft, “but with this particular task, I think I can man it on my own.”

Niall changed and sat on his bed, waiting for Liam to get done with what he had to do, and when he finally exited the bathroom and collapsed onto his own bed, Niall told himself that it was only because his bed was closer than Niall's.

“You okay?” Niall asked, and received no reply. “Liam?”

“Yeah,” Liam said, turning his face from the pillow he'd had it buried into. “Cuddles?”

The pout-y pleading in his voice was almost too much for Niall to handle, and his chest felt about to burst as he stood from his bed and made his way to Liam's, laying beside him and pulling him close. Liam buried his face in his chest.

“Sorry I can't be like everyone else,” Liam said, his voice muffled against Niall's shirt, but the words still audible.

“What do you mean by that?” Niall asked.

“You know,” Liam said. Niall might have, he wasn't sure, but he definitely didn't know what to say in response, so he settled on,

“Get some sleep, okay?”

“Leave.”

“You want me to leave?” Niall asked, the wonderful feeling he'd just had vanishing instantly as sadness and confusion took its place; confusion because, while Liam was telling him to leave, his hands were still balled up in Niall's night shirt.

“No, I don't want you to,” Liam said, “but you should anyway.”

“Nah,” Niall said, feeling a bit better now that he was realizing that Liam was only having one of his many moments of self-deprecation. “I'm not in the mood right now.”

Liam snorted and, though he couldn't see it, Niall smiled as he kissed the top of Liam's head.

“I'll see you in the morning, Li.”

“You'll be here?”

“Yep. Right here.”

“Okay.”

Liam released Niall's shirt, resting one hand under his own head, but taking Niall's hand in his other. Clearly, Liam still had some damage to work through-as everyone did-but this, in Niall's eyes, was progress. The self-deprecation he could work with as long as Liam wasn't shutting him out anymore.

***Liam***

The only way that Liam knew he'd drank too much as he came to the next morning was the dizziness. That was just from being dehydrated, though, and he didn't have a headache or any nausea whatesoever. It took him a moment to remember that he'd gotten sick the previous night and so that was probably how he was skipping out on the hangover, but whatever worked.

Niall's body on top of him, causing him to overheat and sweat, meant that Liam was slowly becoming even more dehydrated and so he carefully laid the man on the mattress next to him and slid to the end of the bed to get to his feet.

Liam sort of remembered the conversation he'd tried to make with Niall the previous night about the other man leaving and, though Liam hadn't really thought he would pack up his things and vanish in the middle of the night, he felt a bit of relief that he had still been in bed with him. In his strange state of fantasy, Liam had imagined Niall being gone when he woke, only coming back into Liam's life after he had gotten himself together. Then maybe they could have their happily ever after.

But, of course, Liam's life was not a movie, as he'd pretended last night, and if Niall fled, only returning after Liam turned himself around, then Liam would never see him again.

After chugging a couple bottles of water, Liam decided to go on a jog. He couldn't stay in the hotel, just watching Niall sleep peacefully in his perfect form.

Liam lost track of time, jogging along the beach by himself, becoming dehydrated again from how much he was sweating in the hot morning sun, and when he checked his phone, it was nearing eleven and he had a text from Niall asking if he was okay, as well as a missed call from him and Harry. Frowning, Liam waited a couple minutes, sitting on the shoreline as he caught his breath, and then he stood again and called Harry.

“Hey, Liam,” Harry greeted, his nose sounding a little stuffy. Liam wondered if he had gotten what Louis had after all.

“Hey,” Liam said. “Is there a problem?”

“No. We were worried about you is all. Where are you?”

“The beach. I went for a jog. Why were you worried about me?”

“Well, you disappeared in a foreign country that you've never been to before.”

“I'm fine.”

“I know that now. And I'm glad. Have you called Niall yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“Call him,” Harry said.

“I was planning on it.”

“Okay, snappy,” Harry teased before sniffling.

“Are you sick?” Liam asked.

“No. Call Niall.”

“Fine. I'll let you go since you clearly don't want to talk to me.”

Liam had been teasing, but Harry sounded very serious as he said,

“That's not true, Liam.”

“I'll talk to you soon,” Liam said.

When he called Niall to tell him that he hadn't gotten himself hopelessly lost, kidnapped, or murdered, Niall sounded relieved. Liam found it strange, as his own mom hadn't even cared to check where he was when his dad threw him out those few years ago.

“Are you coming back to the hotel soon?” Niall asked.

“Probably,” Liam said. He was already exhausted just from the jog and he knew he really should eat and drink some more water anyway.

“I'll order room service,” Niall said, as if he was reading Liam's mind. “What do you want?”

“Surprise me.”

“Yes, sir.”

  


Liam shouted a 'hi' to Niall when he arrived back at the hotel, and he thought he received a reply, but the other dancer's voice was drowned out by the bathroom door shutting. Liam stripped quickly and took a fast shower, but the food that Niall ordered was waiting on the desk for him when he exited the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around his waist. Niall was sitting cross-legged on his bed, not having gotten a plate yet, and he noticeably checked Liam out, causing the towel-clad man to smirk. When Niall noticed that he'd been caught, his face turned a shade of red that Liam didn't know was possible, and his smirk only grew, even as he just wanted to kiss Niall and tell him how cute he was.

“We can take this to the next level,” Liam pointed out with faux innocence in his voice. “We're only waiting on you, you know.”

“I'm not going to be just another notch in your bedpost, and I definitely don't have sex before the first date,” Niall said confidently, even if he had to swallow before speaking.

“What about sex after the first something?” Liam asked, smiling in a way he knew to be seductive. Again, Niall shook his head.

“What kind of guy do I look like to you, Liam? Jeez.”

Liam gave a small laugh and dropped the conversation, but he wasn't shy about dropping his towel after he'd turned and began looking for a pair of jeans.

“Oops,” he said. Niall snorted.

“You're ridiculous,” the blonde said, touching Liam's back lightly as he walked past him to grab a plate from the desk. “When you're done being a tease, there's macaroni and cheese. I figured you can't go wrong with that, right?”

“Actually, would you believe that there are people who don't like cheese?” Liam asked.

“Well, yeah; like lactose intolerant people,” Niall said, scooping a big glob of noodles onto his plate.

“Not only lactose intolerant people,” Liam said. Niall's face morphed into one of horror.

“Those poor, miserable people,” he said, and gave a sympathetic sniffle. “You don't happen to be one of those unfortunate souls, do you?”

“Nope, not at all,” Liam said, zipping up his trousers and resting one hand on Niall's waist afterward as he reached around him to grab his own plate.

“Lou's music video is going to be great,” Niall changed the subject as the two went to sit on the bed farthest from the door.

“I think so too,” Liam agreed. “It was a lot of fun. Filming a music video was actually on my bucket list too.”

“Really?” Niall asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin, but making sure to widen his eyes, showing he was curious.

“Yeah,” Liam said, embarrassed even though Niall hadn't done anything to make him feel that way. “Guess that's done though, so...that's cool.”

“Maybe one day you can film another one for one of the songs you record in the studio.”

“Right,” Liam said with a snort. “Hey, Niall, sorry about getting so drunk last night.”

Niall's eyebrows furrowed together, his expression confused then. He was such an expressive person. Liam adored his face.

“Why are you apologizing?” he asked.

“I tried to stay sober,” Liam said, and he felt like he was admitting some dark and dirty secret; that he'd tried to stay sober, and he'd failed. Niall frowned.

“Is there any certain reason you were trying to stay sober?” he asked, seeming to choose his words carefully.

“To prove to myself that I could do it, but apparently I can't, so...”

_Shut up, Liam; shut up, shut up, shut up._

Listening to himself, Liam closed his mouth, cleared his throat and then took a drink from the water bottle he had between his legs. He didn't mention to Niall that he didn't know why it was so hard for him to stay sober when he could clearly remember the anger and frustration he'd felt every time he had to pick up alcohol bottles from around the sofa and help his mother to bed.

“You can stay sober, Li,” Niall said. “I know you can.”

“Yeah, like...I know that,” Liam said lamely. “So, uh, the skinny dipping scene yesterday; how did it look? Were we totally awkward?”

“No, you looked great. It's going to be a highlight of the video for sure, but, Liam, please try to believe in yourself. Believe in your ability to turn your life around, if that's what you want to do.”

Niall was really getting good at catching onto Liam's not-so-smooth subject changes, and Liam was grateful for it, even if he wouldn't admit it verbally. Hoping to relay the message in another way, Liam put down his fork and balanced his plate carefully as he leaned forward and pecked Niall's lips. It was a quick kiss, but when Liam tried to pull away, Niall quickly took a turn to kiss him in return. Liam didn't have the energy or will power to protest-not that he wanted to-and when Niall stopped kissing him, he put their foreheads together, smiling brightly at Liam before putting a short kiss on his nose. Even though Liam's instinct was to panic, like he always did when things got too intimate, he decided to, just for a moment, embrace the way his heart was pounding, realizing that it didn't actually feel like a heart attack, but more like...happiness.

He should tell Niall, he knew. Liam was a complicated person and Niall tried so hard to make him happy, and he succeeded most of the time, but he probably never knew that because Liam wasn't good at showing any emotion unless it was anger. He needed to tell Niall that he was an amazing person and that Liam enjoyed being around him; enjoyed being whatever they were, but he just couldn't.

When Niall rested his hand on Liam's chest, Liam wondered if he could feel it anyway.

***Harry***

Louis's mom left his place shortly after Louis gave his thanks to the participants of the video. He and Harry went inside to tell her goodbye, and Harry couldn't help but smile as he watched Louis and Jay give each other goodbye hugs because so many people, he found, took their family for granted, but that was something Harry desperately tried not to do, and it appeared that Louis felt the same way.

“Are you busy tomorrow?” Jay asked her son, rubbing his arms for a brief moment once they pulled away from their hug.

“No, nothing is planned,” Louis told her.

“Want to do lunch?” she asked, and then, looking at Harry, added, “All of us.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Louis answered, shooting Harry a look that perhaps said something like 'you don't have to go if you don't want to.' Harry would go if they wanted him to, of course.

“Great. I'll call you in the morning and we can figure out specifics,” the woman said. With that, the three said their final goodbyes and then Louis turned to kiss Harry, sighing as they broke apart, but smiling up at the other man.

“Go to bed, babe. You look exhausted,” he said. Harry _was_ exhausted, physically and mentally. He felt drunk despite the fact that he'd only had one shot.

“Are you sure?” Harry asked, putting his arms around Louis's waist and ducking his head to kiss and gently bite the side of the singer's neck.

“Mhm,” Louis hummed, goosebumps forming on his skin. “I'll be up soon.”

“Okay,” Harry said, licking the small mark he'd made on the other's neck before kissing his lips. “I'll miss you.”

“I'll miss you more,” Louis said with a smile. Harry smiled too, but the distantly familiar, metaphorical raincloud decided to attack him right then, causing a heaviness in his chest that took away his ability to breathe correctly. Luckily, he'd managed the smile before that happened, and Louis had already turned away, missing the way Harry's face morphed into something far uglier than a smile and how every muscle in his body had tensed painfully.

Still, Harry was surprised to find tears on his cheeks when he entered the bedroom, and when he noticed them, he let out a small, audible cry, slapping the moisture away, though it did no good because the realization that he was crying only created more tears. It wasn't that he was really angry that he was crying, but he was forced to face the reason why now, and that was something that Harry had been trying to avoid.

He was disappointed in himself. Filming the music video had been tiring, but Harry knew that wasn't the reason for his complete exhaustion. The reason was his diet. His _disorder._ He should be in Louis's backyard, having fun by his boyfriend's side, but, just like the pre-tour party that Louis had thrown so long ago, this _thing_ ruined it.

There was really no winning, Harry realized, because he felt physically weak when he didn't eat and mentally weak when he did, and he honestly didn't know which was worse. He supposed the mental was worse because not eating was winning. It always won, even when Harry thought he was ahead.

Harry didn't know when he'd sat on the floor, but before he knew what he was doing, he was crawling to the bathroom connected to Louis's room and throwing up the single shot he'd taken. He wasn't sure if it was because he'd been gasping for breath or simply because he was that mentally messed up, but Harry got sick on his own which usually made him feel even better than purging (as it was getting rid of the 'bad' without giving in and sticking his fingers down his throat), but that time, he felt about a hundred times worse. All he could think about as he coughed and gagged and then eventually scooted himself back against the wall, too drained to move anywhere else, was how disappointed Louis would be in him if he knew.

Eventually, Harry was fueled enough by the fear of Louis coming upstairs and finding him crying on the floor in front of the toilet to get to his feet, brush his teeth and put on a hoodie with some pajama pants. He crawled into Louis's bed, hugging the pillow he'd slept on last night tightly as he concentrated again on normalizing his breathing pattern. Louis had changed the sheets that morning, but the pillow still somehow smelled like him and, pathetically, all Harry wanted was to go downstairs and drag Louis to bed with him so he could distract himself from the chaos in his mind by making love to him again and then, finally, getting rest in his smooth, strong arms.

Of course, Harry was probably too weak to even make it out of the bedroom, so that wouldn't have happened even if he could say goodbye to the remainder of his pride and attempt to get the man anyway.

Harry got a reprieve from the tears after a few more minutes, if only for the fact that he was too tired to continue. He wasn't falling completely asleep, but was stuck in a strange state of semi-consciousness. His eyes were closed, his mind playing images of Louis from last night and that day, but he could still hear the music thumping in the background along with the occasional scream of delight over something or another.

_You should be down there, Harry,_ he told himself yet again. _If you were normal, you would be out there having fun; not a crying mess in your boyfriend's bed. You don't deserve him, Harry. You don't deserve any of the wonderful things that have happened to you recently because you don't appreciate them._

Harry jolted when he heard the bedroom door open quietly, and Louis gave a soft cough to clear his throat as he went to the bathroom, making sure to close that door quietly as well.

Of course, that was when the tears started again, but Harry sucked his lips in and kept his eyes shut, determined to appear asleep.

Louis messed around in the bathroom for a few minutes, being careful to not wake Harry; the loudest noise being when he dropped something and hissed out a 'shit.' Harry noticed him cracking open the bathroom door, likely checking that he hadn't woken him, and Harry made a point to be completely still. After a few moments, Louis closed the bathroom door again and carried on with his business. Harry would have laughed if he physically could have.

As he got in bed beside Harry only a couple minutes later, Louis yawned and placed a soft kiss to Harry's shoulder. He smelled like chlorine and mint and _Louis_ , and Harry couldn't stop a small noise of both relief and sadness from escaping his throat. Louis froze, but when Harry didn't move or make any sound (or breathe, to be honest), the singer put his head on his pillow and snuggled against Harry's back, yawning again. Finally, Harry continued his broken breathing pattern, feeling dizzy even though he was laying down with his eyes shut.

Harry didn't even realize he'd nearly fallen asleep until he was pulled back to consciousness by a hand touching his forehead. He frowned, wondering what Louis was doing, and it was only when the other man got off the bed that Harry noticed he was shaking.

Louis returned after a minute and Harry felt him place another blanket on top of his body.

He'd thought he was cold. He thought that what was wrong with Harry was something simple that could be fixed with a blanket and, apparently, tighter cuddles.

Again, Harry was unable to stop the small cry that escaped his throat.

“Harry?” Louis whispered, stilling completely. Harry debated continuing to feign his sleep, but his muscles felt far too tight and he knew it had to be obvious then that he was awake.

“Hm?” he hummed, afraid for what his voice sounded like.

“What's wrong?” Louis asked

Thinking quick, Harry replied, “Bad dream,” and his voice sounded a little off, but it could have just been from sleep if Louis didn't know otherwise.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Louis asked, his fingers flitting up and down Harry's leg.

“I don't really remember it,” Harry said. “I just remember it was weird.”

“Oh. Well it's okay now,” Louis said, kissing Harry's back. “Go back to sleep, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry said, feeling sick again; this time because he'd lied to Louis-again. Louis didn't deserve that, and Harry didn't deserve Louis.

“I know I said this last night, Harry, but thank you for coming into my life,” Louis said.

“Thank you for letting me stay,” Harry said, hoping that Louis couldn't sense the _please let me stay_ that he left unspoken.

  


Louis was already out of bed when Harry woke the next morning, even though it wasn't even nine o' clock yet. As Harry opened his eyes, he felt the pain in them. They were so dry and Harry remembered with embarrassment the disaster that he'd been the previous night. Louis had only seen a small portion of that mess, but still; he'd seen too much.

Pushing his embarrassment aside because there was nothing Harry could do about it now unless he wanted to flee and never let Louis find him again, the dancer got to his feet, his head spinning. There was a sharp pain in his stomach and Harry thought he probably would have just gotten sick everywhere if there had been anything in him. Thankfully, there wasn't.

Harry made it to the bathroom and drank some water from the tap to hold him over until he could get a glass from the kitchen. He knew he needed to eat, and he would, but he wasn't going to go rummaging through Louis's cupboards without permission and have the singer find him stuffing his face like a sloppy boar.

Sipping on his water, Harry walked slowly through the house in search of Louis, eventually finding him in his exercise room. Harry watched for a minute, not wanting to call out to him or sneak up and scare him while he was lifting weights. He admired the way Louis's back muscles were visible through his sheer tank top, even if he was jealous as well. Even when he'd been on a healthier track and exercising regularly, he hadn't had muscle. Dracen had told him he did, but Harry knew what stuck out through his shirt was fat, not muscle.

“Morning,” Harry greeted, approaching Louis only after he'd set down his weights. He jumped, turning around quickly, but smiled when he saw the other man.

“Sorry,” Harry said. “I didn't want to scare you.”

“It's okay. I'm just jumpy,” Louis said, his nose scrunching up adorably when Harry kissed his forehead. “Sorry I'm all sweaty.”

“It's hot,” Harry assured him. Louis smiled, lifting the hand Harry did not have wrapped around his glass so that he could kiss his fingers individually.

“You're shaking again,” he noted, squeezing the hand lightly and looking concerned. That, of course, brought Harry's embarrassment to the surface again.

“I'm hungry,” he admitted, the words coming out slurred from his reluctance to say them.

“Breakfast time then,” Louis said, picking his water bottle and phone up from their spot on the floor.

“I don't want to interrupt your work out,” Harry said.

“I was basically done anyway,” Louis told him. “What do you want?” he asked as they walked to the kitchen.

“Um, just cereal or something, I think,” Harry said, needing something sooner rather than later but of course not wanting to say as much.

“Okay,” Louis said. “Disgusting wheat shit with no milk?” he asked as he went to his cereal cupboard.

“Milk this time,” Harry said, almost smiling at the tease.

“Look at you, living it up,” Louis said, pulling two bowls down before pouring each of them a bowl of cereal. Harry thanked him-once then and again when he was given his food-and the two ate in silence except for Louis humming in between bites.

“How are you real?” Harry wondered aloud, able to finally smile then.

“What do you mean?” Louis asked, his mouth full, and a bit of milk dribbled onto his chin. Harry laughed- _a miracle_ -and explained while Louis retrieved napkins; one for himself and one for Harry, who had yet to make a mess.

“I mean, you're the most smiley person I know. You sing in the shower and hum while peeing and eating, you're so nice and funny, but you know how to be serious and put people in their place when you have to. You're gorgeous and talented and basically have every right to be completely stuck up, but you're so down-to-Earth. I don't know. It's like someone manufactured you to be the perfect pop star and the perfect person at the same time.”

“I told you before I'm not perfect,” Louis said, smiling politely, of course. “I'm actually becoming quite afraid for the day when you realize that. Although really, you should know. How many times have I dropped something, or walked into something, or fallen over or somehow otherwise hurt myself since you've known me?”

“I don't think being clumsy is a flaw,” Harry said. “Plus you even make falling on your face look cute.”

Louis's smile was nothing short of delighted then, but he toned it down quickly and gave a dramatic sigh.

“Oh, Harry; how I wish I could see myself through your eyes. Or that you could see yourself through mine because I think you're a lot more perfect than I am.”

“You can't be more perfect than something that's already perfect.”

“Well, let's just say, I'm like a six and you're like a one hundred.”

“Does your scale go backwards?”

“No it does not,” Louis said, flicking the napkin he'd balled up at Harry's face. The dancer smiled.

“You're much more than a six,” Harry said. “I think your bum is a six by itself, at least.”

Harry must be feeling better, he realized, if he could joke around (except he wasn't really joking) with Louis like this. He didn't know if he had the cereal to thank more, or if it was because of Louis. It was probably a good combination of both.

“My bum is my only redeeming quality,” Louis said, sighing dramatically again. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Is not, though you might want to think about getting it insured.”

“Already done.”

Louis winked and Harry smiled. Looking into his bowl, he realized that his cereal was gone, so he spun his milk around with his spoon for a moment as Louis took his last couple of bites. Then Harry picked up the bowls and went to pour the remainder of their milk into the sink.

“Are you feeling better?” Louis asked then.

“Yeah, I am,” Harry said.

“I meant what I said about you wanting to see yourself how I see you,” Louis said. When Harry turned, he saw the other sitting back in his chair, arms crossed with a serious look on his face. “I'm not perfect, and maybe you're not either, but that's perfectly okay. Actually…”

Louis paused, chewing on his lip. Harry waited patiently for him to continue.

“I'm going to sing that new song that I wrote at my next concert and promise you'll concentrate on the lyrics?”

“Okay,” Harry said, confused.

“I would sing it for you now, but I don't want you to feel pressured to say something if you don't want to. Just...you can be perfect without being flawless, and I promise you that the things you see as flaws are what make you most beautiful.”

“My love handles are what turn you on?” Harry teased, except maybe he wasn't really teasing again, and Louis's face remained serious.

“I think what you think are love handles are hips, which everyone has, but no matter; yes. They are beautiful. Much more beautiful than my wonky elf ears.”

“Wonky elf ears?” Harry snorted, of course looking at Louis's ears then. “Aw, no, I think your ears are cute.”

“They're wonky elf ears,” Louis stated. Pulling his chair closer to Louis's, Harry leaned forward to nip his ear lobe before sitting in his chair, his hands resting on Louis's thighs.

“I like them.”

“See?”

“See what?”

“If you're perfect for a person, then you see them as perfect.”

“You think I'm perfect for you?” Harry asked, raising one eyebrow, amused. Louis definitely just took the whole thing too far because Harry was sure there was someone more suitable for Louis out there. He just selfishly hoped he didn't find them.

“Perfect,” Louis said simply, shifting so he could kiss Harry's lips. That was the last word that was said for a while because, a minute after Louis ended up in Harry's lap, the two decided they needed to shower, and what better way to shower than together?

Harry tried to believe that Louis could see him as perfect as he washed him and kissed him and loved him in the shower. He tried not to worry about positioning himself in angles that made him look better and just let go, and he mostly succeeded.

Louis's phone was ringing on the counter as the two got out of the shower, and Louis wrapped a towel around his waist, excusing himself quickly as he ran out to answer. It must have been important, whoever it was.

Harry looked at his reflection in the mirror, hoping to feel as good about his appearance as he had the first time he and Louis had had sex, but all he could see then was matted down hair, blotchy skin and water dripping from his massive, unattractive body.

He also saw his eyes turn red as more tears filled them.


	25. Chapter 25

***Louis***

It wasn't that Louis didn't know that something was wrong with Harry. The dancer seemed sadder than normal, bordering on tears almost constantly the past couple of days. Louis saw that, and it hurt him, but he just didn't know what to do about it when Harry insisted he was fine. If Louis pushed too hard, he could push Harry away and cause him to shut down instead of helping him.

Louis tried to offer comfort in subtle ways through his actions and sweet words; words that he meant, whether Harry believed it or not. When he found Harry lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling with a blank expression on his face, his hair still wet from the shower they'd taken together, Louis laid next to him, placing a firm, yet gentle kiss on the other's lips before lying his head on the pillow. Harry looked to the side and attempted a smile that almost made it.

“You're so gorgeous,” Louis said softly, and though Harry didn't outwardly reject the words, he simply laughed and turned his attention back to the ceiling, so Louis knew the phrase hadn't reached him at all.

Harry was noticeably nervous in the car on the way to have lunch with Jay, on top of whatever other emotions he was feeling, and Louis held his hand while he drove, making light conversation to try to distract from the negative things going on in the dancer's head. Louis wished he could read into that mind just once, though he knew whatever was in there would make him wish he'd never seen it at all.

Dean had told the paparazzi that Louis had taken Harry along to lunch with his mother, though he gave them the wrong restaurant, assuring their attention would be limited when they arrived at the celebrity hot spot.

Jay was already waiting inside for the two and pulled them into a hug each, offering huge smiles.

“Harry, I love your outfit,” she complimented, and Harry seemed shocked by it, but he smiled more genuinely than Louis had seen all day and thanked the woman. Louis remembered when Harry used to be pleasantly surprised whenever he offered compliments and he wished he could have that back instead of Harry brushing them off as he did these days.

Louis didn't do much of the talking during lunch, which was fine with him. He was thoroughly enjoying watching his mom and his boyfriend interact. It seemed so natural and Harry relaxed more and more as the meal went on. He'd ordered just a salad and was pushing it around more than actually eating it, but Louis knew better than to say anything, especially in front of others. He would just have to try to make sure Harry got a good meal later.

“When are you going back home, mum?” Louis asked during one of the brief moments of silence in which Harry ate a piece of lettuce off of his fork, concentrating on chewing like it took all the will power he had in him. Louis was so proud.

“Trying to get rid of me already?” Jay teased, making sure her expression looked as offended as her words were, but Louis knew better than to think she'd actually taken the question to heart like that.

“Yeah, you know I can only handle you in small doses,” the singer teased right back, but then said, “No, I was asking in case you need a ride to the airport or anything.”

“I am perfectly capable to take a cab,” Jay assured her son, but Louis was having none of that.

“Cab drivers are crazy in this town. I'm driving you,” he said. Jay smiled, knowing all along that she was going to get that reaction.

“My plane leaves a little after ten in the morning tomorrow,” she said.

“Where are you staying?” Louis asked. “And why aren't you staying with me?”

“You two don't get enough time together outside of hotel rooms, I'm sure,” Jay said, smiling politely at the men. “A pestering mum isn't the greatest thing for a new relationship. Besides, Dean put me in the clubhouse suite of the Carlton, so I'm rather enjoying myself.”

“Okay,” Louis said, “but you know you can always stay with me if you want.”

“I know that, dear,” Jay assured him. “How about you pick me up at eight tomorrow, to be on the safe side?”

“I'll be there,” Louis said.

“You're sweet,” Jay complimented, and Louis felt his face heat up under the way Harry was smiling at him.

“He's very sweet,” the dancer added, probably purposefully adding to Louis's embarrassment. Jay beamed and Louis hated them both, except not really. They were his two favorite people in the world and Louis couldn't imagine loving anyone more.

  


After lunch, the three made their way to the mall, after Louis privately ensured that Harry was truly and completely okay with the idea. He was, because of course he was. Louis felt as if Harry would go along with anything that anyone wanted to do as long as it made someone happy.

Jay wanted to go look at the makeup and she told the others that they could do their own thing if they wanted, but Louis decided he needed some makeup as well.

“It was kind of fun wearing it,” he explained to Harry's confused expression. “I don't think I could get away with doing it all the time, but every now and then...”

Louis trailed off, not sure where he was going with that thought, but Harry nodded as if he understood anyway.

“You have a completely different skin tone than me, so we can probably find some shades that match you even better than what we put on you the other day,” he said.

“Will you help me?” Louis asked. Harry nodded, a determined look on his face as he turned and began looking. He consulted Jay, who was nearly the same color as her son, and together the two picked out shades they thought would look 'marvelous' on the singer. Louis watched, amused and endeared as Harry held shade after shade up to Louis's face, his tongue sticking out and everything as he made the hard decision of what to get.

“Everything looks good on you, it's so unfair,” he whined.

“You are so good at flattering me,” Louis said with a wink, leaning up to place a quick kiss to Harry's forehead. “I saw that cringe you made a few minutes ago with the...What was it? The tulip purple lip stain, I think.”

“That was just an unfortunate color,” Harry said. “I don't know how it made it to the stands.”

“I bet it would look good on you,” Louis disagreed. Harry shook his head.

“No way.”

“Wait right here,” Louis asked, making his way to find the tube again. Harry obeyed, and after finding the product he wanted, Louis power walked back, holding it up to Harry's lips proudly. He didn't actually know what he was looking for, but he liked the color and he liked Harry's face, so he didn't think this could go wrong.

“Yep,” he said, throwing the tube into their little basket. “I'm getting it. If you try it and don't like it, you don't have to use it, but I think it will be beautiful.”

Harry smiled, shaking his head at his boyfriend, but he didn't protest and the smile was mostly real, so Louis felt good about himself for at least a few moments.

  


After spending more time than anyone probably should have in the makeup store, the group decided to leave the mall. Jay had made a new friend at the hotel (just a female friend, she had assured Louis) and the pair were planning on going to the beach together, so Louis drove her back and hugged her goodbye, assuring her that he would be there at precisely eight o' clock in the morning.

“So what do you want to do with the rest of the day?” Louis asked his boyfriend as he drove out of the hotel's parking lot.

“Whatever you want,” Harry said.

“Would you rather go out or stay in?”

“It doesn't matter.”

Louis sighed dramatically.

“You are so complicated, Styles.”

“Sorry,” Harry said, and Louis glanced over just quick enough to see the small grin on the other's face.

“It's alright,” Louis told him. “How about we just go back to my place and swim in the pool or something? It's so hot out.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Louis blew out of his nose in a form of a laugh.

“What's so funny?” Harry asked.

“You,” Louis answered.

“Good funny or an 'oh my god, you're so dumb' funny?”

“Cute funny,” Louis replied. “Definitely cute.”

“Would you tell me otherwise?”

“Of course not. I wouldn't lie to you.”

  


The men changed into their swim apparel as soon as they reached the house; Louis in his trunks and Harry in his t-shirt with slightly longer shorts.

“I like that green on you,” Louis complimented, talking about the color of Harry's shorts, and Harry leaned down to place a kiss to the singer's lips.

“Thank you,” he said. “I'll get us drinks if you want and you can go ahead and get in the pool.”

“Alright,” Louis agreed.

“What do you want?” Harry asked.

“Just a corona, and get whatever you want for yourself.”

Louis waded around in the water absently as he waited for his boyfriend to come out. It didn't take him long, but Louis still felt himself get excited when he heard the back door open and then saw the dancer heading towards him with two drinks in hand.

“Hey, hot stuff,” he called, swimming to the edge of the pool where Harry leaned down, setting Louis's drink by the edge and taking a drink of his own before putting it down too.

“Hi, gorgeous,” the dancer said, his voice softer, and Louis raised himself out of the pool just enough to kiss his boyfriend. Finally, that earned him one of Harry's real smiles.

“Are you getting in?” Louis asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, getting onto his bottom and sticking his feet in the pool for a few moments before lowering his body into the water.

“Glad you're here,” Louis said. “I was so bored without you.”

“It took me, like, one minute,” Harry pointed out.

“I'm in constant need of entertainment,” Louis explained.

“So sorry,” Harry apologized.

“That's okay. I would never expect you to cater to that silly need.”

Louis kissed the dancer again and then, after offering a smile, hoping to get one in return (he only received a fake one), he changed the subject.

“When do you get to see your family?” he asked, kicking himself off on the side of the pool and floating a bit away, only to swim back.

“Probably on our next semi-long break,” Harry said.

“Tell them to come to one of the shows,” Louis suggested. “They can get in for nothing.”

“I've told them that. I think they just feel bad asking.”

“That is silly,” Louis said. Apparently 'silly' was his word of the day. “Do I need to call them and invite them myself?”

“Maybe,” Harry said, smiling a tad. “I'll let you know. Your mum is really sweet, by the way.”

“Yeah, she's a great lady,” Louis agreed. “I'm sorry she was talking your ear off and asking so many questions though. I swear she didn't mean anything by it. She likes to get to know people. She wasn't interrogating you or anything.”

“Uh-huh,” Harry said teasingly, but was quick to add, “It's okay, though. I understand even if she was. She wants what's best for you.”

“You already have her approval,” Louis told Harry, who had seemed suddenly nervous.

“Really?” the dancer asked, his eyebrows raising.

“Yes,” Louis said. “Why do you seem so surprised?”

“I wouldn't give myself the approval of dating someone else's kid.”

Louis frowned, unable to tell if Harry was being serious or trying to joke.

“Why not?” he asked. Harry shrugged.

“I guess your mum doesn't know that I'm mental yet,” he said, and he was smiling, a teasing glint in his eye, but there was something else there too that suggested that, while he was half joking, he was half serious too. Following the same mood, Louis said,

“Well, you'd have to be a little mental in order to keep up with my issues.”

The dancer's eyebrows raised again, more in curiosity than surprise, and after taking a deep, but subtle breath, Louis decided it was time for him to open up a little bit. Perhaps if he shared the side of him he tried to keep away from most people, Harry would be the same way with him.

“I was on anti-depressants for a while in primary school and then again during the last half of my first tour,” he explained. It wasn't that he was ashamed of the fact, but he tried to give a certain persona to the general public, and that persona didn't involve taking a happy pill every morning. Harry wasn't the general public though; he was his boyfriend and Louis thought that he, out of everyone would understand. He could only hope that this would help show Harry that, while he couldn't understand exactly where the dancer was coming from, he would try and could relate to at least the tiniest extent.

“I'm off them now, but I still talk to someone a couple of times a year for maintenance,” he continued. “I actually went before this tour started to make sure I wouldn't end up going nuts and crying in my tour bus bathroom when I'm supposed to be on stage in five minutes...again.”

“Again?” Harry asked with a laugh, but then his eyes widened and he clamped a hand over his mouth briefly. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh. It's not funny; it's just the way you said it was...I'm sorry.”

“It's okay,” Louis assured him, smiling lightly, hoping it was obvious that he wasn't at all offended. “I'm a bit of a drama king, I know. I was going through a rough time because my tour manager had dropped me when I came out of the closet. Dean was doing his best to take over the role, but he was so busy and had no idea what he was doing with that aspect, so it was stressful and of course I was hurting over the fact that I was dropped over something like that anyway.”

“They really dropped you?” Harry asked, looking nothing less than horrified.

“Yeah. It ended up being okay, obviously. Beatrice was the girlfriend of my original tour manager and she was on the road with us. She left with him at first, but came back after one leg, offering to take over the duties. She had no actual experience, but I'd liked her well enough and honestly, I don't think I would have successfully finished the tour without her. She dumped the homophobic dick head and has been completely awesome in every way, but the whole thing still fucked up my mind a little.”

“Understandably,” Harry said, giving Louis a gentle kiss on the lips. Louis hadn't realized his muscles had tensed until they relaxed under the other's touch. Louis loved kissing Harry, but he loved it even more when Harry kissed him first.

“Just because you went through a rough time doesn't mean you're mental,” Harry said then.

“I don't think so, either, but that also means that your rough times don't make you mental,” Louis commented.

“I bet you weren't locked up in an institution when you were fifteen though, were you?” Harry asked, and though his tone had still been teasing, Louis could see regret cross his face as soon as the words were out. The singer forced his face to remain neutral so that any expression couldn't be misjudged. While this wasn't new information, hearing Harry say it hurt. It still didn't cause Louis to think Harry was crazy, of course; it just made him sad that he'd been so sick where putting him in a hospital had been the only way to save him.

“It was for your eating disorder?” Louis verified. Harry nodded.

“I wish I could get in your brain and fix your self image,” Louis said out loud for the first time.

“I think there would be a lot more in need of repair than that,” Harry commented, winking to lighten the mood, but the pain had yet to leave his face. The men had floated away from each other a bit, but Louis swam forward to kiss Harry yet again.

“You've had to overcome so much and you have a lot to be proud of,” Louis said. “There's been the car accident, your disorder and I'm sure a slew of other things I don't yet know about, but you're strong, love; even if you don't always believe it...Or ever believe it.”

Harry gave a tiny, quick smile and then shook his head as if to clear his head.

“Sorry this got so serious,” he said with a small laugh.

“You don't have to apologize,” Louis assured him. “You can talk to me about anything, and you learned some pretty deep shit about me too that you probably didn't need to know at this point.”

“No, I'm glad you told me what you did,” Harry said quickly, putting his hand on Louis's chest. Louis wondered if he could feel how much his heart rate picked up at the touch. “None of it changes how I feel about your or anything.”

“So you still like me?” Louis asked, smiling as he tilted his head in what he hoped to be a cute manner. Harry laughed, truly; warming Louis from the inside out.

“Yeah,” he said. “I still like you, at least a little bit.”

He gave another wink and, smiling, Louis pressed his lips against Harry's, making a loud smooch sound when he broke away.

“You know, I like shy Harry from back when we first met, because I like all Harrys, but I'm really enjoying the Harry that busts my balls every now and then.”

Harry laughed again, loudly that time, and covered his face until he'd composed himself, although Louis wished he hadn't.

“That's not what I was trying to do,” he said.

“No, it's a good thing,” Louis told him. “I need it, trust me.”

After another kiss, Louis decided to go back to the serious side of their conversation a little bit.

“How are you doing, babe?”

“I'm fine,” Harry said, a confused look on his face.

“I mean really,” Louis said. “How are you with your disorder and everything?”

“Fine,” Harry repeated, his confusion changing to fear rather quickly.

“It's okay, Harry,” Louis told him gently. “I'm only asking so that I can do my best to help you.”

“Well, I mean, I'm always going to be insecure,” Harry said, shrugging awkwardly. “Sometimes it's hard for me to eat normally, but I'm okay, don't worry.”

Louis didn't tell Harry that he wasn't a great liar. Instead, he asked,

“Do you think talking to someone will help? I can get someone to come out on the road. It's no problem.”

“That's not necessary, but thank you,” Harry said.

“I want you to be happy.”

Louis sounded nearly desperate then and quietly cleared his throat.

“I am, most of the time. I might start taking my medication again, but I'm fine. Honest.”

“Will you at least promise to tell me when you don't feel fine or if anything gets to be too much?” Louis asked.

“I promise,” Harry said, and Louis hoped the reason he kissed him then wasn't to distract him.

***Liam***

The next leg of the tour took place in Ireland, and Niall was basically bouncing in his seat on the way to his home country.

“You seem very excited,” he commented when minutes passed and the Irishman still hadn't settled down. Niall smiled, almost apologetically.

“I am,” he admitted. “I love Ireland.”

Liam smiled as well, hoping to show Niall that he hadn't meant it in any way but good.

“You're so cute,” he commented. Niall positively beamed.

  


Since Niall's family didn't live too far away and they hadn't seen each other in a while, he was going to be staying with them instead of in the hotel with the others for that first night. Liam understood, of course, but he still felt a kind of sadness as the plane landed, knowing that he was going to soon be saying goodbye to Niall for the night.

_Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic._

“Hey, where are you going?” Niall asked as Liam started heading in the opposite direction in search of Harry or Zayn after getting off the plane. Liam opened his mouth, then closed it and shrugged, nodding towards the very direction he had been about to go off to.

_Pathetic._

Niall tilted his head, smiling with his eyebrows pulled together, but when Liam offered no further explanation, the blonde motioned for him.

“Come on,” he said. “I know you have to go, but you can say hi to my family real quick.”

Wordlessly, Liam followed the other man, feeling nervous although he knew there was no logical reason to. Friends met each other's parents. It was a normal thing that happened. He knew Harry's parents and Harry knew his. Well, Harry knew his aunt and uncle, but that was the same thing in his situation. Yep, it was completely normal to know your friends' parents and that's all he and Niall were; friends.

“Hey, guys,” Niall said, wrapping what Liam guessed to be his mom (or step mom), dad (or step dad) and perhaps a brother into a hug.

“Hey, kid,” the man said, slapping the dancer on the back gently. Niall did the same and then pulled away quickly, smiling as he turned to Liam.

“Liam, this is my mum, Maura, my step dad Chris and my brother Greg. Mum, Chris and Greg, this is my mate, Liam.”

_Mate. I told you, Liam, you dumb oaf_ , Liam told himself in his head while outwardly smiling.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hello!” Maura said, moving forward to shake Liam's hand while the men echoed their greetings. “You're a dancer too?” she asked.

“Yeah. Not as good as Niall, but...”

“Yeah right,” Niall said with a roll of his eyes, but Liam thought he saw him blushing as well. Maura smiled.

“Well, it's great to meet you. Do you have arrangements for where you're staying tonight?”

“Oh, um, yeah,” Liam said, shocked, but not unpleasantly so, at the question. “Louis has us in a great hotel, but, uh, thanks.”

“Of course.”

“Liam! Mate!” Zayn called from the near distance, waving his arms like a crazy person. “You're going to miss the cabs if you don't get a move on. Come on, I have your stuff.”

Liam swore they hadn't been landed for long enough for Zayn to have gone to the luggage port and received both of their belongings, but there he was; being weighed down by five bags and with two pillows in his hands. Zayn was a mystery of a man, Liam decided.

“Yeah, sorry, I guess I should have let you go,” Niall said, moving to stand by his mom, who was still in front of Liam. “I'll see you tomorrow?”

Liam wasn't sure why it sounded like a question when both he and Niall had obligations to see each other tomorrow whether they wanted to or not (he wanted to, of course), but he didn't mention it.

“Yeah, see you,” he said. “Have a great night with your family. It was nice to meet you all.”

The group said their goodbyes and Liam turned after waving to Niall, hurrying to relieve Zayn of some of the bags.

“Thanks,” he said as he did so. “Sorry, I guess you won't get the room to yourself tonight.”

“It's cool, man,” Zayn said. “Hey, if you're not too jet lagged, we can go out.”

“I'm sure I'll be fine after a nap,” Liam said.

Though he collapsed as soon as they got into their hotel room, Liam didn't think Zayn slept at all and yet, he was still ready to go out and explore Ireland that night. The two went to a pub for dinner before hitting up bars, and Liam might not actually see or talk to Zayn much, but he was glad that he was there, like a constant anyone could rely on. He mostly distracted him from his constant thoughts of Niall too, which Liam told himself was a plus.

Liam didn't make it a point to not be flirty that night, but as he and Zayn entered the bar, that normal feeling of lust and wildness didn't hit him. There was an obviously gay man by the pool table who he locked eyes with, but then he quickly looked away. Maybe he really was getting old, as he'd claimed to Niall at Louis's party. Once leaving university, life started going by fast.

Oh well. Liam wasn't actually bothered by it, so he led Zayn to the bar and ordered them both a drink.

“Do you want to play darts?” Zayn asked, his face flushed after only two drinks in. Of course, he'd had a couple drinks and a shot at the pub, so Liam decided to let this slide.

“Sure,” he agreed. “Just don't poke my eye out, please.”

Zayn laughed.

“You're funny,” he said, hopping down from his stool and sloshing alcohol onto his arm. He sucked off what he could and then led Liam away. Both of the dart boards were currently in use, but the couple of girls at the nearest one offered to let them join, and so they did. Liam wondered if Zayn was really too drunk to notice how they were all over him or if he was just ignoring it. Either way, he knew better than to mention anything.

Soon, another person came to join; the man that Liam had made eye contact with when they first entered. An unpleasant feeling that he didn't think had anything to do with the alcohol settled in his stomach, but his natural instinct caused him to smile.

“Hello,” the man said in his pure Irish accent, drawing out his 'o' as he squeezed closely behind Liam. “Who's winning?”

“He is,” the blonde lady said, eyeing the two and smiling like they were the cutest thing she'd seen that night, besides Zayn, of course.

“Should have known,” the newcomer said. “You don't look like there's a single thing you're bad at.”

“You can tell what someone is good at by looking at them?” Liam asked, one eyebrow raised as he looked over his shoulder at the man, and Zayn basically screamed in delight.

“Ooh, Liam's got feist!” he said. Liam decided not to tell him that 'having feist' wasn't actually a thing. The girls giggled anyway and the brunette rubbed Zayn's shoulder.

“I like feisty men,” the guy said and then nodded to the nearly empty glass in Liam's hand. “You look like you need a refill,” he commented. “May I?”

Liam knew he shouldn't, but he agreed and followed the man out, trying not to show his disgust when the man's hand briefly touched his butt.

“What is that?” he asked of Liam's drink. Liam told him and thanked him, but when he sipped it, it didn't taste as good as the other had. Feeling just a tad sick, he sat down and the man did too, putting their knees together.

“My name is Art,” he said.

“Liam.”

“Liam. I like it. Where are you from, Liam?”

“Wolverhampton, England.”

“Oh. I don't know where that is.”

“Yeah, it's not super well known, I guess.”

“English men are hot anyway.”

Art winked and Liam gave a tiny smile before taking a drink. Maybe if he were a little more intoxicated, this wouldn't be so oddly uncomfortable.

“What are you doing in Ireland anyway?” Art asked.

“I'm on tour,” Liam said. “I'm a dancer for Louis. Um, Louis T. I'm guessing you know him?”

“Yeah, of course. A dancer? So you really know how to use your body then.”

Art touched his knee and it took everything Liam had in him not to jerk away. He forced a smile.

“You're gorgeous,” he said. “Are you seriously single? Not that I mind if you are or not if you're okay with it, but I find it hard to believe anyone would let you out if you belonged to them. Or is that bloke in there your boyfriend? Are you in some kinky poly-amorous type thing?”

Liam's head was spinning, but he didn't think it had anything to do with the drink.

“No,” he said.

“No to what?” Art asked.

“Um, all of the above.”

“So you're single?”

“Yeah. I don't date.”

“You don't date?”

“Right.”

“But you're down to fuck, right?”

“Um...”

“Hey,” Art said, not even giving Liam a chance to answer, really. “It's okay, babe.”

The Irishman lifted his hand, cupping Liam's face tightly, and Liam flinched at the contact, causing Art to chuckle as he ran his thumbs along Liam's jawline.

“You're strange,” he said. “Relax, I'm not gonna hurt you, I promise. Well, unless you like that kind of thing.”

Liam shook his head and then his phone buzzing on the bar beside him caused him to jump. He heard Art curse under his breath as he excused himself to check his phone, and was confused when he saw that the text message was from Zayn.

_Need help?_ It read, and if Zayn could sense the tension from where he was and with as much as he'd had to drink, Liam really wondered how Art wasn't picking up on any of it.

_I'm ok,_ Liam replied, because even if he did need help, he would never admit it. Perhaps Zayn knew that because Liam had just put his phone back down when the other man came running over. (If running was what you could call his penguin waddle.)

“Liam!” he called, crashing into Liam's side and almost losing his balance, but Liam quickly wrapped an arm around his waist, preventing him from falling.

“Whoa. Sorry. Thanks. Hey, mate, sorry to interrupt, but we need to go. Tina just sent me a text and I think she's in trouble. We need to go pick her up at the party. I told her that bloke was bad news.”

Zayn sighed, shaking his head sadly and Liam had to work really hard not to smile at his drama because there would be nothing funny about Tina being in trouble.

“Fuck,” he said, sliding off of his chair and away from Art. “Sorry,” he apologized, trying to sound like he meant it. “This is an emergency. I really have to go.”

Liam and Zayn turned simultaneously, hurrying out of the bar and pretending they didn't hear Art calling out to ask for Liam's number or the name of where he was staying.

“Thanks,” Liam said when the two entered another bar about a block away. “And sorry, I didn't mean to ruin your fun.”

“No, man, it's cool,” Zayn said, giving Liam a wide smile. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Liam said. “I don't know what was going on with me anyway. I'm usually into that stuff...obviously.”

“You're allowed to, you know, not be,” Zayn said, and then changed the subject, leaving no room for awkward silences. “First drinks are on me this time!”

Liam's phone went off again while they were waiting on their order to be made. Checking it, Liam saw that it was Niall and instantly smiled.

_Maybe he is what's wrong with you_ , Liam said, silently talking to himself again. A smaller voice said, _And maybe that's not wrong at all._

_Ugh! I can't sleep without your snoring! It was oddly peaceful_ , the text read. Liam's grin was about to crack his face.

_I think that's probably just the jet lag,_ he replied.

_Nah. It's because of your snoring._

Liam didn't say so, but he didn't feel sorry for Niall since he couldn't even go out and have fun anymore because of him.

When a minute passed and Liam hadn't replied, Niall sent another text.

_So what are you doing, if I may ask?_

_Out with Zayn_

_Sounds fun :)_

_Zayn is fun_

Liam hoped that message would show Niall that it was only Zayn he was with, and then wondered why it was so important that Niall know that anyway.

_We should all go out again sometime. We can do karaoke so I can actually hear your singing voice._

_We can go out but no to the karaoke_

_We'll see ;)_

“Here you go,” Zayn said, handing Liam his drink. Liam thanked him, switching his phone to just one hand so he could hold the glass.

_I guess we shall_ , he said to Niall.

_I'll let you go have fun,_ Niall sent back.

_Get some sleep,_ Liam responded, not telling Niall that he didn't want him to stop texting him.

_I'll try. See you tomorrow._

_See you_

“Everything cool?” Zayn asked as Liam slid his phone back into his pocket.

“Yeah. It was Niall,” Liam explained. Zayn nearly smirked.

“Got it. Hey, up for some blackball?”

Liam agreed, feeling better now than he had all night. He just made it a point not to make eye contact with anyone for the rest of the night.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the 2348394320th time that this was late!!!
> 
> The lyrics posted in this chapter are to the song "Perfectly Perfect" by Simple Plan. I heard the song for the first time while writing the second chapter of this fic and I knew I had to put it in somewhere. The * in the lyric is just where I changed a pro-noun to make it for a male.
> 
> Lastly, I think we are almost to the point where things can start moving a little faster (finally!) I'm sorry this is going so slow, but I don't want to rush it and all of main plot points need building up to and such, so...yeah. But, as I said, in another chapter or two, things should be able to start moving along a little quicker.

***Niall***

“So that was Liam.”

Niall's mother said it as a statement, not a question. Though Niall wasn't sure his face had ever returned completely to its normal color while leaving the airport, he was pretty sure the red deepened again.

“Yes,” he verified as he climbed in the back seat of the car next to his brother. “And thank you for not saying anything embarrassing like you've heard all about him or whatever.”

“It was hard not to,” Greg spoke.

“He's really cute!” Maura said.

“Yeah,” Niall agreed, silently thinking that 'cute' didn't even begin to cover Liam's description.

  


It was crazy that, even though Niall truly was having a great time with his family, he still missed Liam so badly. Upon arriving to his mom and step father's home, he took a short nap and when he woke, he went with his parents, step dad, brother and sister-in-law to see a movie and have dinner at Niall's favorite local restaurant. After that, he went with just Greg to get a couple of drinks, and it was nice to have some quality brother time, but he still couldn't get Liam out of his head. He didn't wish to be away from his family, he just wished Liam could have been there with him. Liam would have never gone for that, though, Niall knew, even though his family would have had no problem with it at all. Whenever anyone was dating someone, they became a part of the family in their eyes. Niall and Liam weren't technically dating, of course, but Niall's parents and, most especially his brother, seemed to be having a hard time remembering that;for every time Niall so much as glanced at a man, Greg would slug him on the arm and say something along the lines of, “Oi, you have a boyfriend. Keep your eyes to yourself.”

He was in too deep with his not-boyfriend to even consider talking to anyone else.

  


_You will not text him_ , Niall repeated over and over to himself that night as he lay in his childhood bed, unable to sleep and staring at Liam's name in his phone. _Don't text him, he's probably busy…_

_Busy with someone else._

A small sound of protest made its way out of Niall's throat without permission at the intruding thought, and he found his fingers clicking on Liam's contact information and typing out a message despite his weak, internal protests, too.

_Ugh! I can't sleep without your snoring. It was oddly peaceful,_ is what Niall's fingers chose to type out for him, and could he be anymore cheesy?

_I think that's probably just the jet lag,_ Liam replied. Though it was a good theory, Niall knew it wasn't true. Why he was having such issues anyway was a mystery to him. Niall was never the kind to have problems being alone, and he guessed he still wasn't because no one's company sounded good to him except Liam's. So he didn't have problems being alone, he had problems being away from Liam.

Sad.

What was even sadder was the hurt Niall felt when Liam said he was out because he took that as confirmation that Liam was looking for someone to be with for the night because Liam _was_ the type to have problems when alone, and he would take anyone's company, not just Niall's. Even though Niall had known all of this already, and he knew that one day he would be forced to face that reality and it would hurt, he still somehow found himself unprepared for the stupid lump in his throat.

_Sounds fun :)_ Niall told Liam because he was sure it was for the other man.

_Zayn is fun_ , Liam said, and for just a brief moment, Niall felt a pang of jealousy that he would never admit if asked, assuming that Zayn had been the one Liam chose for the night. That was worse than some random guy in the club because Liam couldn't just run from him in the morning like he seemed to do with everyone else. Zayn was on tour with them for the next six or so months, and, worse, he was technically Liam's designated room mate. Liam ran from his feelings, but since he couldn't run from Zayn, what if he couldn't stop feelings from developing?

Fortunately, those thoughts didn't last very long before Niall realized they were ridiculous. Zayn was uninterested in sex and romance, it appeared, and, anyway, if Liam was trying to get into his pants, he probably wouldn't be currently texting Niall. Maybe it was just an innocent night out.

For his own sanity, Niall decided to go with that and, just to ensure he could keep that hope alive, he ended the conversation with Liam first so that he wouldn't have to wait to be told that Liam 'had to go' or just be left mid-conversation as someone else took in his love for the night, making sure he wasn't lonely.

Eventually, Niall did end up falling asleep and when he woke, he found himself disoriented and looking for Liam before realizing that Liam hadn't come home with him. That would be way too boyfriend-y, he reminded himself.

It made Niall sad for a moment; waking up without Liam, but he stayed positive, knowing that he would be seeing the other man in just a few hours. (And hopefully he would be seeing him without any love bites or such from another.) In the mean time, Niall would continue to enjoy his time with his family and keep thoughts of Liam in the back of his mind only.

 

“Do the nerves ever settle down?”

“What?” Niall, hearing his mother speak, asked, looking up from the side window in the front seat of her car.

“I asked if the nerves ever settle down,” Maura repeated and then added, “You're being very quiet. Are you alright?”

“Oh, yeah, I'm fine,” Niall said. “Every show is nerve-wracking still, but never as bad as the first.”

Niall didn't add that the nerves weren't the reason he was being quiet. He was simply trying to keep his excitement to himself, knowing that he really should not be feeling so ecstatic to see Liam when it had been just over twenty-four hours since they had seen each other. Niall had long ago accepted the fact that he was born to be a cheesy person, but his family didn't need to know the exact extent of that. More so, Niall did not need Greg to know.

As fate had it, Liam was passing by the entrance door when Niall and his crew made their way inside the backstage area. He didn't notice them at first, seeming to be on a mission, but when Niall called his name, Liam stopped dead in his tracks, turning on his heel to give a wide grin.

“Niall!”

Without thinking, Niall quickly approached the man and pulled him into a tight hug, but he barely had time to worry about if Liam would mind, what with Niall's family being right there and all, before Liam hugged him back just as tightly; perhaps tighter. The ultimate shock came when Liam leaned his head down, saying softly,

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Niall said, glad that Liam couldn't see the pure joy he knew had to be written on his face and even in his eyes.

“Oh,” Liam said, letting go of Niall and backing up a smidgeon. He appeared to just notice Niall's family in the near distance, and Niall didn't miss the pink on his cheeks.

“It's okay,” Niall assured him, speaking low enough for only him to hear.

“Hello again, Liam!” Maura called cheerily.

“Hi,” Liam said, waving almost shyly, which nearly made Niall laugh because he knew that Liam was anything but shy.

“You met my mum, Chris and Greg yesterday, Li, but this is my dad, Bobby. Dad, this is Liam. He's another dancer.”

Unlike Niall's mother and brother, his dad had been spared his 'Liam is so amazing' speeches. Bobby had nothing against Niall's sexuality and he knew that he would be happy for him, no matter who he ended up with, so long as he treated him right, but Niall figured the dynamics of his and Liam's relationship were too complicated for his father to understand when even Maura and Greg refused to believe they weren't dating.

Since Bobby was a good guy, he didn't question Liam or Niall about the exchange he'd just witnessed; only gave the normal, pleasant 'nice to meet you' greetings with Liam. After that, Beatrice called Liam away and he excused himself, leaving Niall to say goodbye to his family alone.

“We'll see you after the show, yes?” Maura verified, and Niall could swear he saw a tear in her eye, so he refused to look directly at her.

“'Course, mum,” he said, accepting and returning her hug.

“Good luck,” Greg said, patting Niall on the shoulder. “I know you'll do great, obviously.”

“Thanks.”

After being wished good luck more times than he could count and telling each person that he loved them at least twice, Niall's family made their way to their seats. It was right after that when Zayn approached, a suspicious smirk on his face.

“Zayn, has anyone ever told you that you're kind of strange?” Niall teased, knowing the other man could take it. Zayn simply smiled.

“Every day of my life. Anyway, I wasn't actually spying on you or anything...this time. I just saw you and came by to tell you that you should be proud of your boy. He didn't flirt or sleep with anyone last night!”

A huge wave of relief crashed down on Niall at the words. He knew the thought had been bothering him, of course, but he hadn't realized how much until he received confirmation that he had been worrying for nothing all the while. Still, he tried to keep his feeling of bliss to only himself.

“He's not my boy,” Niall told Zayn. “If he wants to flirt or...whatever, it isn't my business.”

Not buying Niall's front at all, Zayn rolled his eyes.

“Why are you putting off the inevitable?” he wondered aloud. “Everyone knows that you're going to end up together. Most already think you are.”

“Don't tell Liam that,” Niall said, keeping his voice casual but secretly fearing what would happen if the other knew. “He doesn't date, remember?”

Again, Zayn rolled his eyes.

“It's time for a new storyline, don't you think?” he asked, and then flitted away with a wink.

“Okay, crisis averted,” a voice from behind Niall spoke; Liam. Niall turned, giving the other a small smile.

“What was the matter?” he asked.

“They couldn't find one of my outfits,” Liam said. “It's all good now. It was located.”

“I'm glad.”

Since no one was around or, at least, paying them any attention, Niall took a chance and wrapped his arms around Liam's waist, tilting his head slightly to silently admire how gorgeous this man in front of him was.

“I really missed you,” Niall said, wanting Liam to know that it was true and that he hadn't only said it earlier because Liam had told him first.

“I'll make you a recording of my snores if you're that fond of them, then,” Liam said, putting his hands on Niall's hips in return. Niall gave a laugh.

“That's not the same,” he said.

“Well, if you missed my snoring that much, don't abandon me again.”

“I didn't just miss your snores; I missed you, doofus,” Niall said endearingly. “And I would never abandon you.”

Liam smiled, his eyes crinkling up adorably, and Niall sighed, if only because breathing got a little bit difficult for a moment.

“Can we go somewhere so that I can kiss you?” he asked.

“Just kiss me here,” Liam said, shocking Niall for at least the third time that day, but he wasn't going to argue.

***Harry***

Harry was having a nightmare and he knew it was only a nightmare, but that didn't make it any less terrifying. He heard the car wheels screeching and his sister screaming like he was right there. He saw a flash of colors and, even though it was impossible, he swore he could feel the glass piercing his skin and his body crumbling in on itself as he hit the tree. His dreams of dancing were over. He was broken; he was worthless-he was…

Sweating. Harry was sweating a lot, he realized as he gasped and sat upright, looking around the room that he'd known all along he was in. He'd been telling himself even in his unconscious state that what he was seeing and feeling wasn't real. He wasn't in the car, about to be shattered in more ways than one. He was in a fancy hotel room with Louis; the love of his life who was doing his best to put his shattered pieces back together without knowing just how many shards of Harry there were.

“Hey, babe, sh...”

And speaking of Louis, here he came; hurrying to sit by Harry's feet on the bed, that familiar look of concern on his face.

“What's wrong?”

“Just...just a bad dream,” Harry said, his heart beat starting to slow down as he focused on the blue of Louis's eyes and the smoothness of his skin.

“Again?” Louis asked.

Harry didn't know what Louis meant by 'again' until he racked his brain and remembered that he had claimed to have had a bad dream when Louis had caught him pathetically crying in bed a few nights ago.

“Yeah,” Harry said, clearing his throat.

“Do you remember it this time?” Louis asked, making small circles with his thumb in Harry's hand. Harry wasn't even sure when he'd taken his hand, but the touch felt nice now.

“Um...yeah. It was more like a memory, actually, from when I got in that car wreck that I, uh, I think I told you about.”

“Yeah,” Louis said, nodding sympathetically.

“That's it,” Harry said, shrugging awkwardly.

“I totally get why it scared you,” Louis said, resting the hand that wasn't holding Harry's on the dancer's thigh as he leaned forward to place a kiss on his forehead, “but it was just a terrible blast from the past. You're here now and you achieved your dream of being a dancer and you are a _brilliant_ dancer, love.”

Harry smiled briefly, but then had to swallow down the rising moisture in his eyes.

“I'm okay,” he assured Louis. “It just felt real and all, but, yeah, obviously it's not.”

“You promise you're okay?” Louis asked, giving Harry a look that hinted he didn't believe he was.

“I promised I would tell you when I wasn't, remember?”

“Mhm,” Louis hummed, raising Harry's hand to his lips to kiss the top of it. Then, without another word, he got off the bed and went to the nearby full-length mirror, sighing as he played around with his hair; messing it up, fixing it and then messing it up again.

“You don't sleep much,” Harry noted, bringing his knees up to his chin and wrapping his arms around them. “You're always awake when I wake up.”

“I don't think I require as much sleep as normal humans, honestly,” Louis said.

“Still...it seems like you should be exhausted,” Harry commented.

“I'm okay,” Louis assured him.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Promise to tell me when you're not?”

Louis huffed out a laugh, looking at Harry in the mirror.

“I promise.”

“Good.”

Stretching his legs out in front of him, Harry changed the subject.

“You're performing your new song tonight then?”

“Yes,” Louis said, but not before groaning.

“What was that about?” Harry questioned. “You don't want to perform it anymore?”

“No, I do, I'm just nervous. Performing any song for the first time is always scary, but it's even worse if no one has heard the song before.”

“Well, do you want to perform it for me so that you can get some practice? Not that you need it, I'm sure.”

“I don't know,” Louis said. “One-on-one performances are even more terrifying.”

“But I'm your boyfriend,” Harry pointed out, a happy jolt going through him as he spoke the word.

“I know,” Louis said, smiling at Harry as he got off of the bed and went to stand behind Louis, placing his chin on top of his head. He gave his own reflection a quick glance, but mirrors only led to bad things and so he quickly focused on the singer instead.

“Do you really want to hear it?” Louis asked.

“I would love to,” Harry answered. Louis nodded and Harry stepped back, allowing the other to grab his guitar.

“I haven't warmed up my voice,” Louis explained after clearing his throat as he got himself and his instrument situated on the bed, where Harry had sat again. “I might not sound great.”

“You'll sound fantastic, super star.”

Louis smiled as Harry laid across the bed, using his hand to keep his head propped up so that he could keep his eyes on his gorgeous boyfriend.

“Okay...Um...Here goes.”

Harry was so mesmerized by Louis's voice that it took him a moment to remember that he was supposed to be paying attention to the lyrics. That was how it always was when Harry heard a new song by the man. He listened to it a few times, just taking in the beautiful tone of Louis's voice and the vocal tricks he did that he made sound easy before focusing on the lyrical content.

That time, he focuses on Louis's fingers strumming the guitar and listened to it all.

_“_ _You might not think you're a supermodel_ __  
_But you look like one to me_ __  
_I'd rather have your picture on my phone_ __  
_Than on the cover of a magazine_ __  
_It's hard to think that a *_ _guy_ _like you_ __  
_Could have any insecurities_ __  
_It's funny how all the things you would change_ __  
_Are all things that are cute to me_ __  
  
_And I know you don't believe me_ __  
_And you think that I'm a fool_ __  
_But I don't care_ __  
  
_Maybe_ __  
_You'll never see in you what I see_ __  
_The little things you do that make me go crazy_ __  
_I'm not crazy_ __  
_You're perfectly perfect to me_ __  
  
_You brush it off every time I tell you_ __  
_Your smile lights up the room_ __  
_And I'm guessing that you don't even notice_ __  
_The whole world notices you_ __  
_You think you're clumsy_ __  
_I think you're cool_ __  
_You say you're typical_ __  
_But I think you rule_ __  
_Sometimes I wonder if you'll ever believe_ __  
_That I wrote this song for you_ __  
  
_Maybe_ __  
_You'll never see in you what I see_ __  
_The little things you do that make me go crazy_ __  
_I'm not crazy_ __  
_You're perfectly perfect_ __  
_Someday_ __  
_You're gonna see you're beautiful this way_ __  
_And that you're always gonna make me go crazy_ __  
_I'm not crazy_ __  
_You’re perfectly perfect to me_ __  
  
_You don't have to try_ __  
_Change a single thing_ __  
_‘_ _Cause just the way you are_ __  
_Is sweeter than anything_ __  
_Maybe I’m a fool but it’s always been you_ _  
_ _‘_ _Cause no one ever makes me smile the way you do...”_

“And then it repeats the chorus again,” Louis spoke, clearing his throat and looking just short of petrified. Harry felt bad, wondering what his own face was showing because it felt like he had barely breathed during the entire song and he had to blink back tears. Louis shifted awkwardly.

“I mean, it will sound different with the other instruments and stuff if I decide to put it on an album,” he said, running his hand through his hair awkwardly, and Harry shook himself out of his fog.

“No, no, no,” he said, and then, “I mean, yes, it should definitely go on an album. It's...amazing. I was just left speechless.”

Louis didn't look as if he believed Harry at first, but when the dancer smiled, he did too.

“You don't have anything to worry about tonight,” Harry told him.

“You're sure you liked it? You can tell me the truth,” Louis said. “I can handle constructive criticism.”

“Lou, it was perfectly perfect.”

Louis laughed, and his eyes looked a little wet too, so Harry kissed his forehead and then went to brush his teeth, giving the other a moment to collect himself, should he want it.

“Do you want breakfast?” Louis asked, approaching the bathroom after only few seconds and leaning against the door frame.

“Mmm…,” Harry said, brushing his teeth with more force to save himself from answering. Louis put the pieces together himself.

“Guess not.”

“Sorry,” Harry said after spitting into the sink and then rinsing his mouth. “I'm just not very hungry right now.”

He truly wasn't. Though he had calmed down a lot listening to Louis's song, his nightmare was still there in his head, playing over and over. Harry didn't know why it still had so much power over him after all of this time, but it did.

“Don't apologize,” Louis said, entering the bathroom to kiss Harry. They were in the middle of kissing when Harry heard the other's stomach growl.

“I think you need food though,” Harry said, kissing Louis's chin.

“I'll wait a bit,” Louis said, turning his head to peck Harry's lips again.

“You're hungry.”

“Not much.”

“Come on. I'll come with you to get something.”

“I don't want to right now.”

Louis sounded so adamant that Harry had to pull back and study him, worried. He was overreacting, probably. Louis wasn't like Harry. Louis was normal. It was just that not eating while noticeably hungry was, to Harry, starving oneself and he didn't like Louis doing that; not one bit.

“Please eat,” he begged, and Louis frowned, probably picking up on the desperation in his voice.

“Okay,” he agreed after a moment and Harry took a quiet, but deep breath in.

“Thank you,” he said, grateful that Louis agreed without saying something along the lines of, “I'll eat if you eat,” as many had tried to do during Harry's darkest times.

“Anything for you,” Louis said, twisting his fingers in Harry's curls as he pulled him down into another kiss. “I mean it. Anything.”

The thing about it was that Harry believed those words. Or he believed that Louis meant them for the time being. He would do anything for Harry now, when his disorder seemed to be nothing more than a quirky personality trait. Louis didn't know the half of it, which wasn't his fault, and it also wouldn't be his fault when he discovered how deep the issues went and then left him, because it was inevitable.

Harry wasn't thinking about that right then though. Those thoughts passed through his head every day but he always pushed them away.

_Live in the moment, Harry_ , he told himself. Besides, if he continued on the path he was on, his moments would be limited, or so his old psychologist would have said.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~Insert typical late apologies here~
> 
> Although I am changing the update day to Tuesdays now. My schedule has changed and Sundays aren't as free as they used to be. So...sometime Tuesday, California time is now the goal although I suck, so I can't promise that I'll never be late.

***Niall***

As Niall had already discussed with Liam, real life wasn't like the movies. Even the best love stories weren't quite up to par with what one saw on the silver screen. However, that night, when Louis went up on stage alone and sang a song he had very obviously written for Harry in front of thousands of people, it almost felt like Niall was watching someone's wonderfully dramatic life unfolding before him.

Normal rules probably didn't apply to pop stars, Niall told himself.

Nobody knew that Louis was going to perform the new song (except, Niall suspected, Harry), and so the dancers stood backstage, looking around in confusion at first, but they were soon put into an almost trance-like state when Louis started singing. No one made a single noise during the performance besides Beatrice, who was trying to figure out what in the world was going on. The dancers as well as the audience listened intently to every word and every note, and only when Louis stopped singing and strumming his guitar, cleared his throat awkwardly and announced that he was done ,did the fans and the dancers erupt into cheers and applause. Liam turned to look at Niall.

“Aw,” they both mouthed at the same time, and then laughed.

“Who actually gets to date their celebrity crush and have a song written about them?” Liam wondered aloud as he moved closer to Niall.

“You know, I was just thinking the same thing,” Niall said.

“Back onstage, everyone! Hurry up!” Beatrice, looking quite frazzled, ordered, and so the dancers quickly scattered, Liam touching the small of Niall's back briefly as they ran to their spots.

  


The crew had to travel that night, which meant they were to be sleeping on their fancy buses instead of in their fancy hotels. Harry stayed with Louis, naturally, and, to Liam and Niall's surprise, Zayn went to sleep as soon as they finished the show (Niall made a mental note to check that he wasn't ill later), so that left Liam and Niall to lounge on the couch and play video games alone, trying to come down from the high of the show.

“Fuck I suck,” Liam announced on the fourth time his Mario Kart character (Donkey Kong) went off the side of Rainbow Road. Niall breathed out a laugh.

“Maybe you're just tired,” he tried.

“Not an excuse,” Liam said, and then cursed as Niall crossed the finish line for the final time. Niall laughed again and leaned sideways to kiss Liam on the cheek.

“Are you ready to go to bed then?” he asked.

“No,” Liam said. “We're not going to bed until I win one.”

“So competitive,” Niall said, yawning as Liam had.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Liam claimed as he picked their next destination; Twisted Mansion.

It was a close one, but Liam ended up winning, and he cheered quietly as he crossed the finish line, smiling widely for an instant before his face became serious.

“You let me win, didn't you?” he asked.

“No,” Niall answered honestly. Well, almost honestly. He'd only purposely slipped on a banana once or twice. That didn't really count.

“You sure?” Liam asked, his eyes narrowed.

“Cross my heart,” Niall said, and Liam didn't need to know that his fingers were crossed childishly behind his back.

Smiling, Liam placed a quick kiss on Niall's lips before getting up and turning off the game console.

“I think I will be able to rest easily now.”

“I'm so glad.”

The two went back to the bunks, Liam crawling to the top of the empty one as Niall took the bottom.

'Rest easily' Liam did not, as Niall could hear him tossing and turning above him. Every time he would settle down and Niall would be nearly asleep, the movement began again, so, finally, Niall crawled out from under his sheet and climbed the ladder, standing at the top and staring at Liam until the other rolled over again, jumping when he saw Niall.

“Shit, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” Niall said. “Is everything okay up here?”

“Yeah. Sorry,” Liam said. “I was probably keeping you up, wasn't I?”

Niall chose not to answer; instead climbing the last step to sit on the bed, having to duck his head a bit to not touch the ceiling.

“Something the matter?” he asked.

“No,” Liam said. “My legs are just jumpy. I think jet lag is starting to hit me all of the sudden.”

“Hmm,” Niall hummed, moving gracefully to straddle Liam's legs. He ended up more lying on top of Liam, still trying to prevent an unwanted head injury, and the two stared at each other, chests together.

“Hi,” Liam said.

“Hi,” Niall replied, smiling. “Sorry, the goal was to put pressure on your legs and try to get them calm, but, uh...this happened.”

“I don't mind,” Liam said, moving his legs so that they were draped over Niall's. Niall swore he also added a certain ornery glint in his eye as well.

“Hey, Li?”

“Hm?”

“Will you go on another something with me when we have a free day?”

“Yeah, that sounds fun,” Liam said after only having to think for a moment. Niall would take it. He kissed Liam. Liam returned the kiss, biting Niall's bottom lip softly when he tried to pull away. Niall nearly moaned, but was luckily able to control himself. When they broke apart, Liam smirked.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah what?” Niall asked.

“Yeah,” Liam repeated, moving his arms around Niall's bare waist as he thrust up subtly. Niall's eyes widened.

“Li, Zayn is right over there,” he said.

“I can be quiet,” Liam said. “Can you?”

“No.”

“Ooh, that's hot.”

“No, I meant we can't do this yet. Not after only one something.”

“After the next one then?”

Niall narrowed his eyes, though he wasn't really upset and hoped Liam knew that.

“We don't have to set a certain amount of time,” Niall said. “We can just do it when it feels right, you know?”

“It doesn't feel right now?”

“No, and I think you know that.”

Liam hesitated, but then he nodded, dropping his arms down to his side and removing his legs from on top of Niall's.

“You're right. Sorry.”

“You don't need to apologize,” Niall said, laying next to Liam; his head on the other man's arm. “It 's just I...Well you know my reasoning.”

“Yeah,” Liam said. “Can't blame a guy for trying though. What do you expect when you climb on top of me nearly naked?”

Niall snorted, turning his head to kiss Liam's bicep.

“I'm flattered,” he said.

“Nah, you know you're hot.”

“I'm alright.”

“So modest.”

“You're hot.”

“I know.”

Niall laughed yet again, burying his face into Liam's side so the noise wouldn't wake Zayn up.

“I'm glad you know,” he said once he had composed himself. “How are your legs?”

“What? Oh, much less jumpy now, thanks. I think I'm going to fall asleep now.”

“I think that's a great idea.”

Liam hummed, pulling Niall even closer to his body than he already was and repositioning himself a few times before finally stilling.

“Goodnight, Li,” Niall said softly.

“Night, Ni.”

It only took a couple minutes for Liam to fall asleep, but it was around that time which Niall realized he really had to go to the bathroom. He waited a couple of minutes, waiting for Liam's mild snores to start and assure him that he was really asleep before snaking his way out from under the other man's arm and climbing down the bunk steps slowly.

Niall didn't take long at all in the toilet, but when he returned to the bunking area and climbed up to join Liam once again, he was startled to see his love very much awake.

“Oh,” he said. “I thought you were asleep.”

Liam gave the best shrug he could while laying down and simultaneously nodding. Niall laid by his side again. Liam didn't pull him closer that time.

“Sorry if I woke you,” Niall said. “I had to go to the bathroom.”

“It's okay,” Liam said and then, after a brief pause, “Are you staying?”

“Yes,” Niall said, and the dramatic part of him wondered if Liam had meant more than for just the night. It didn't really matter, of course, because his answer would be the same either way. He simply couldn't believe that they were now at the point where Liam would ask him to stay in any way.

***Louis***

“Lou, everyone is freaking out over the new song,” Harry announced the next morning when Louis exited the bathroom only in his boxers and laid next to his boyfriend on his tour bus bed.

“In a good way or bad?” Louis asked.

“Good. It's all good.”

“I don't believe you,” Louis said. There was no way that Harry wasn't at least exaggerating because Louis had felt like he hadn't performed the song very well, especially for the fact that he'd been introducing it.

“Honest,” Harry said, setting his phone on the nightstand and then laying sideways in perfect position to kiss the bare part of Louis's thigh. In turn, Louis began doing one of the things he loved to do most; play with Harry's curls.

“You're so pretty, tiny dancer,” he complimented and then, “Hey, is that, uh, triggering? When I call you tiny dancer?”

“No,” Harry said. “I like it. Are you going to perform your song again tonight?”

“Yeah. Luckily, Beatrice liked the song enough to add it to the set permanently and I got in no trouble for changing up our strict schedule.”

“I'm glad. It's a wonderful song. I want to hear it again.”

“You might not think you're a supermodel, but you look like one to me,” Louis sang, but then stopped and smiled when Harry turned his head to look up at him. “Do we really have to get out of bed today?”

“Not for a while. We haven't even reached our destination yet.”

“Good.”

“Want to make love?”

“Damn, you nympho, we went two rounds last night,” Louis teased, but, of course, he was just as ready and willing as Harry, so the two spent the next little while rolling around in the sheets until Harry collapsed down next to Louis again and let out a big yawn.

“Need a nap now?” Louis asked, kissing Harry one more time.

“I don't think I was actually ready to wake up when I did,” Harry said.

“Go back to sleep.”

“I don't want to be lazy.”

“You're not lazy. You're jet lagged.”

In response, Harry yawned again.

“Sleep,” Louis said, gently closing Harry's eyes for him.

“Wake me up in thirty minutes unless you fall asleep.”

“Sure thing, love.”

Seeming satisfied, Harry nodded, sighed and then, slowly, Louis saw his muscles relax as he drifted off.

Louis also heard his stomach growl. First thing when Harry woke, Louis was going to try to get him to at least eat a little something. Or maybe he would try to get him to eat a lot because, for the life of him, he couldn't actually remember when the last time he'd seen Harry eat was, and that disturbed him. It also made him feel guilty. Clearly he was a shit boyfriend if he was only now noticing this.

Biting his lip, Louis leaned carefully over Harry and took his phone from the nightstand. He was taking a huge chance, he knew, but he had to do this.

Slipping out of bed, Louis went as far away from the bedroom as he could and entered the code to get into Harry's phone. (He'd learned it from Liam, who once unlocked the phone to take selfies and post them on Harry's facebook.) With his guilt only growing, Louis went to Harry's phone book and searched until he found 'mum.' Then, dizzy from how awful he felt, he called.

“Hey, lovey,” a warm female voice greeted. Louis swallowed.

“Hi. Um, this isn't actually Harry. This is Louis. Uh...Louis Tomlinson. Louis T.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” the woman said slowly, clearly confused. The confusion in her tone quickly evaporated, though, and then she just sounded worried; maybe even fearful. “Is something wrong with Harry?!”

“Harry is fine. He's sleeping right now, but he's fine,” Louis assured her, and even though he didn't know how true that statement was, it was what she needed to hear right then. Louis knew how moms worried and he could only imagine how Anne felt with her son so far away from her on a world tour and with the history that he had. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you.”

“No, no, it's fine. I'm a spaz.”

Harry's mom laughed awkwardly.

“I'm Anne, by the way.”

“Hello, Anne. I'm really sorry to call you like this.”

“It's completely fine, dear, though I must ask, is there a particular reason for this call? Not that I mind. It's nice to finally be able to talk to my son's boyfriend.”

“Actually, that's kind of why I'm calling. I wanted to invite you and the rest of your family to a show! Any one you'd like.”

“Oh, I would love to go,” Anne said. “The only reason I haven't is because all of the ones I find that would work are sold out! Which is great, of course. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

Louis wasn't sure why he was blushing, but he decided to not dwell on it.

“The 'sold out' status doesn't count for families though,” he explained. “Even if we can't find seats, you are all more than welcome to stay and watch the show from backstage. I'll even call your work if you need help getting time off.”

Anne laughed at that, but then asked, “Are you sure everything is alright?”

“I think so, yeah,” Louis said, but Anne was a mom, which practically meant that she was a mind reader, and she didn't let the slight change of answer slip past her.

“Has Harry been eating alright?” she asked.

“Um..,” Louis stalled, but Anne saved him the trouble of lying or sugar coating the truth.

“Oh dear,” she sighed.

“I'm not sure whether his behavior should actually be that worrisome or not,” Louis told her quickly. “I just thought it would be nice for you all to see each other again.”

“I'm glad you're looking out for Harry, Louis. Thank you.”

“Could you please not tell Harry that I said anything?”

“You didn't say anything, really. I won't say a word.”

“Thank you.”

“If it's at all possible, I think the show you're doing next Saturday would work for us,” Anne said.

“Yeah, of course!” Louis said, a feeling of relief flooding through him. “It's no trouble at all. Don't worry about the flight either. I'll have my manager call you and he'll sort everything out. He's much better with details than I am.”

“You really don't have to do any of this, Louis.”

“I want to. I'll see you next Saturday?”

  


“You seriously never sleep,” Harry commented when Louis woke him up after thirty minutes, as he'd promised.

“How do you know I didn't just wake up myself?” Louis asked.

“You're much too bright-eyed,” Harry said.

“My eyes just sparkle,” Louis joked.

“They do,” Harry agreed, “but you still didn't just wake up.”

Reaching out, Harry pulled Louis gently over top of him and kissed him, smiling as they broke apart. Louis returned the smile, though it was much more difficult than it should have been. He hadn't done anything wrong by inviting Harry's family to a show. It was something he'd been meaning to do anyway. Sure, he had ulterior motives; hoping that they would be able to tell better than Louis how serious the situation was and teach Louis how to help, but that still wasn't a bad thing. He had good intentions. He was so lost and scared when it came to Harry's health and happiness, and even though he might not be the best boyfriend, he wasn't going to sit around and wait for something bad to happen once he finally got his head out of his own butt hole.

“Babe, will you eat something?” Louis asked as Harry sat up and Louis backed away to avoid a head collision.

“I have a headache,” Harry said, suddenly looking uncomfortable.

“Aspirin and some food then?”

The dancer chewed on his lip. Louis could tell he really wanted to say 'no,' but luckily, he agreed to 'a little something' anyway, saving Louis from being the bad guy that time.

_You're not the bad guy, Louis_ , he told himself as he watched Harry shake as he lifted his fork to take a bite of his chicken. That was one thing his therapist wanted him to work on; the self-blame. Louis had a tendency to blame himself for everything; every single technicality that went wrong during shows, whenever someone was ill (even if he had been perfectly healthy), his inability to keep men around and every time he found his mother sad. Now there was another thing to add to the list in Harry's sadness.  How that would be Louis's fault, he didn't readily know, but give him some time and he would surely come up with a list of at least twenty reasons.

“You're being quiet,” Harry noted once his chicken was half gone. Louis snapped himself out of his state of self-pity and offered a smile.

“Sorry,” he said. “Just...you have a headache.”

“You can still talk,” Harry said. “You're loud, but you're not  _that_ loud.”

Louis smiled. Harry started to return it and then stopped himself.

“Something is wrong,” he stated, not questioning it at all.

“Nothing's wrong,” Louis insisted.

“You seem off.”

“Jet lag.”

“Understandable, though it probably wouldn't be so bad if you slept when you could.”

“I got a full five hours of sleep last night, thank you very much.”

“Look at you, the king of rest.”

“Hush it and eat your chicken.”

Harry grimaced and for a moment appeared to be on the verge of arguing, but then he took another bite of his food. Louis did a happy dance on the inside and only just resisted thanking Harry.  Thanking someone for something as simple as eating wasn't normal and, though it wasn't easy for Harry (and what really was normal anyway?), Louis knew better than to basically call him out on it. 

Instead, he smiled.

“You make me happy,” he said, causing Harry to look up, a shocked expression on his face.

“I do?” he asked after swallowing his bite of chicken.

“Yeah,” Louis said. “You really do.”

The widest smile that Louis had ever seen on Harry's face formed there then, making Louis's heart flutter, and he wanted to cry. He had a bit more control over his emotions than that, so he didn't, but he wanted to. 

In lieu of crying, Louis took Harry's hand and the two silently continued eating. 

***Liam***

“ Holy shit, guys, has Bob Marley joined the tour or something?”

“Harry!” Liam exclaimed as his friend climbed onto the tour bus while at a stop,  and he spoke  at the same time that Zayn said,

“Bob Marley is dead.”

“Sure doesn't smell like it,” Harry replied, sitting next to Liam and taking the joint right out of his hand to take a hit.

“Watch out, Harry,” Zayn warned, “you might get the munchies. Wait, is it even possible for you to get the munchies?”

“Zayn!” Liam hissed, but Harry only laughed.

“Guess we'll find out.”

“I hope you do. You should eat. Eating is good for you.”

“I just ate lunch. I'm good, mate. Where's Niall?”

“Sleeping,” Liam replied. “Where's Louis?”

“Sleeping,” Harry said. “Finally.”

“What's he going to do when he wakes up and you're gone?” Liam asked, frowning. 

“We're less than an hour from where we need to be. I'm hoping he just stays asleep, but I left a note. It will be okay, I promise.”

“How are you doing, Harry?” Zayn asked, his face serious. He looked much like a therapist, ready to take notes, except he had a drug bag and a join t instead of a pen and paper. 

“I'm fine,” Harry said, giving Zayn a strange look. “How are you two doing?”

“Good,” Liam said as Zayn replied 'great.'

“How are things with Niall, Li?” Harry asked.

“Okay, I guess,” Liam said, not sure how to answer since he didn't even know what the true answer would be. “We're not together or anything.”

“You don't date,” Harry and Zayn said at the same time, and then high-fived each other.

“Correct,” Liam said.

“ You need to get over that,” Zayn piped up, as if it were simple.

“You don't know what's happened to me,” Liam said, not realizing until afterward how dramatic that sounded. Oh well.

“Shit happens  to everyone , mate,” Zayn said. “Niall loves you. You love him. Be together.”

“Love doesn't exist.”

Liam didn't honestly believe that, but in the moment, it was the only thing he could think to say.

“Anyway,” he continued, “I haven't had sex in, like, a really long time and I'm really sad about it.”

He took another puff.

“You haven't had sex because you're waiting on Niall,” Zayn pointed out. “If that isn't love, then I don't know what love is.”

“You don't know what love is because you don't date either,” Harry said.

“You don't know what love is because it doesn't exist,” Liam, keeping up his facade, commented.

“Love does exist and I do know what it is, even if I haven't ever been, and probably will never be, in love. Jeez. Tough crowd.”

Zayn took another puff himself.

“Enough about me,” Liam said. “This isn't about me. This is about Harry.”

“What? Nothing is about me. I just came to hang out with you guys, not get into a therapy session.”

“We all need therapy,” Liam decided.

“Been there, done that,” Harry said with a lazy wink. 

“Does that mean you win the most fucked up award?” Liam asked.

“No, it means he wins most sane award because he actually got help. We're just self medicating and pretending.”

“Whoa,” Liam said, nodding slowly. “That was deep.”

“Too deep. Stop or I will jump off this bus,” Harry said, rising to his feet and looking out the window as the vehicle began to move.

“Never mind, Harry's still more fucked up than us. He should sue his shrink,” Zayn said.

“Don't jump, Harry!” Liam cried. “I will miss you.”

“I'm not jumping off anything,” Harry promised, sitting on the couch behind Liam, who took that as an opportunity to rest his head against Harry's legs. The smaller dancer began playing with his hair.

“I'm sorry I haven't asked you how you're doing recently,” Liam apologized. “I'm a selfish bastard.”

“I haven't asked you either,” Harry pointed out.

“You're not a selfish bastard though.”

“Neither are you. Anyway, I'm fine. I miss you all though. Sorry I haven't been around much.”

“It's alright. You're in love!” Liam said.

“I thought love didn't exist?” Zayn spoke.

“You're in heat!”

Harry laughed.

“One or the other.”

“ Seriously, though, we all need to go out again, like, soon. Okay? All of us. Okay?”

“Okay,” Harry and Zayn said at the same time, and laughed.

“Don't mock me,” Liam said.

“Aww, poor thing,” Zayn cooed, crawling over to pinch Liam's cheek as Harry leaned down to place a friendly kiss on the top of his head.

“You know we love you,” Harry said. “Or whatever you call it since love doesn't exist.”

“Yeah, yeah. I like you guys a lot too.”

“Burn,” Zayn sighed, laying across Liam's lap. It wasn't comfortable for either, but Liam wasn't going to say anything.

“Come join us, Harry,” he said instead, finding the man's bony wrist and pulling lightly on it. He was pretty sure Harry hadn't always been that bony, but he kept quiet for the time being because if Harry wasn't going to mention the three alcohol bottles  next to Liam that  he slipped on while rejoining the others on the floor, Liam wasn't going to call him out either. Later he would, he decided, but not right now. There was a lot that Liam wasn't good at, but procrastinating wasn't one of them, no matter the consequences. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, the next chapter will be much more action-packed, I promise >:) There were a few things I still had to bridge together to develop the second half of the story, so that's what this chapter was for. I hope it was enjoyable anyway!


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo, an update that's released on time!!!! I suck a little less this week ;)

***Liam***

Liam didn't know why he was so excited and simultaneously nervous for the something with Niall. He spent almost all of his time with Niall and this would be no different than usual. Sure, it was a little different than just a normal hang out session because it was a scheduled something, but it still wasn't a date.

No matter how many times Liam told himself that, his head and his body did not seem to be getting the memo.

“Oh, god, don't do that, please,” Niall gasped, putting his hands over Liam's as he'd begun to subconsciously hit his wrists against the door handle of the cab they were in.

“Sorry,” Liam apologized, embarrassed. He'd honestly not even noticed that he'd been doing it and was ashamed of the way his wrists hurt now.

“S'okay,” Niall assured him with a small smile. He opened and closed his hands tightly, but comfortingly around Liam's before simply holding his hand.

“Why can't I know where we're going?” Liam asked.

“I never said you couldn't,” Niall told him. “You asked where we were going, I said it was a surprise and you dropped it.”

“Well where are we going then?”

“I'm not telling now. We're almost there.”

Liam glared, but Niall gave his biggest, cheesiest smile and then he couldn't help but to laugh, turning to the window.

“No, why do you always do that?!” Niall asked.

“Do what?” Liam asked, still not facing the other.

“Turn away whenever you genuinely smile! Your smile is so pretty!”

Using the hand that wasn't holding Liam's, Niall gently turned his face to him and laughed when he saw Liam doing his best to stop smiling; his lips puckered up comically.

“Smile!” he demanded. When Liam refused to give in, Niall began tickling his side. Liam jerked, nearly hitting Niall, but luckily Niall had fast reflexes and he moved just in time, shifting enough to avoid any injuries, but still close enough to tickle Liam.

“Look, Mercedes!” Niall said to the cab driver. “Isn't his smile pretty?!”

“It is,” she agreed, glancing at them in the rear view mirror and smiling a bit herself. They were so lucky that they got one of the few existing patient cab drivers, Liam thought. “You two are cute. Excuse me for asking, but are you two a couple?”

“You're excused, but nope,” Niall said, easing up on the tickling as Liam claimed he was about to piss himself.

“Huh,” Mercedes said, and the topic was left at that.

  


“The zoo?” Liam asked as Mercedes pulled up to drop them off at what was clearly a zoo a few minutes later. “The same zoo?”

“The same zoo,” Niall confirmed, and Liam smiled (not turning away that time.)

“No stealing highlighters this time, okay?” Liam asked, giving Niall a stern look that was somewhat ruined by the grin that was still on his face.

“Hey, I told you that I returned that.”

  


Liam hadn't been to the zoo-any zoo-since that day he'd met Niall and even though he was much older now, he enjoyed it a lot more this time around. Niall insisted on reading all of the facts about the animals out loud, and though Liam was never going to retain any of that information, he didn't mind at all. He listened to him speak while making faces at or taking pictures of the creatures.

Eventually, the two wandered into the gift shop where they'd first met and nostalgia hit Liam like a ton of bricks. The merchandise had changed in the shop, but the set up was more or less the same, and he could still tell exactly where he'd been standing when Niall approached him to compliment his cast. As if he were on autopilot, he found his legs going to stand there. Niall followed.

“My pick-up line last time was great and all, but I'm really glad you don't have a cast this time,” he commented as Liam looked briefly at the cheap toys.

“Haven't gone horse back riding in a while,” Liam commented.

“Hmm,” Niall hummed.

“I wish that day had gone differently,” Liam admitted out loud, feeling a nearby sweatshirt so he didn't have to put his full attention on the other man. No matter how that day had gone, Liam knew that he would have, in the end, had to go back home. He couldn't run away to live with Niall like he had fantasized back then, but in the least, they could have exchanged numbers or something. Still, Liam knew he only had himself to blame. He'd been the one who had gone running without a single word or backward glance like the coward he was when his father had called, but he'd been beaten anyway, so he really should have just stayed an extra minute or so. What was an extra bruise? Liam hadn't even really cared about the beating anyway. What had hurt more was his father asking what his 'queer ass' had been doing with 'that boy.' Liam hadn't even come out yet, but that didn't stop his dad from making assumptions, and he hadn't hesitated in telling him that the then-nameless boy at the zoo would never want anything to do with him; that he'd surely made an embarrassment out of himself.

“Me too, but fate seems to have a way around things,” Niall had said, and Liam didn't argue about 'fate' being a whole lot of shit or anything because it was nice to sometimes entertain the notion that it wasn't. It was nice to think that maybe Liam's old man had been wrong and that when he caught Niall staring at him instead of the monkeys, it could have meant something. Maybe it could mean that Niall would one day fall in love with him, like Liam had wished for back when he'd still allowed himself to long for such things.

  


After the zoo, Niall took Liam to mini-golf, and Liam was worse than he had imagined he could be, but Niall was a pro. He didn't rub his talent in Liam's face, though. Instead, he helped him the best that was possible; standing behind Liam and putting his hands over his as he positioned the other man in a better stance. Liam felt like a teenager, but he didn't mind. This was how he'd always wanted to feel as a teenager-safe and warm inside and out, and happy. Back when Liam was a teenager, he probably would have even called this a date. But it wasn't a date, Liam reminded himself, and he wasn't a teenager. Things had changed.

_They don't have to be this way, Liam_ , a voice in the back of his head said.

  


The men had their cab driver stop and allow them to get fast food on the way home. This cab driver was much less nice and patient than Mercedes and didn't hide the fact that was was grumbling unhappily under his breath, but he perked up when Niall bought him a sandwich and chips.

  


“I had a great time,” Liam told Niall once they were in Niall's hotel room, eating their food on his bed. Niall finished taking a sip of his drink and smiled widely.

“I'm glad you did. I did too, of course.”

“Hey, Niall...um...I'm not saying this because I'm expecting you to wait on me or anything, but I just think you should know...I'm changing, I think; slowly. I'm a better person now than I was a month ago...I think.”

“You've always been a great person, Liam,” Niall said. “You just haven't always been great to yourself.”

“I haven't been a great person,” the other man disagreed. “On graduation day, this guy that I'd been fucking brought me flowers and asked me out on an actual date and I yelled at him and dropped the flowers right there on the ground before walking away from him.”

“Well, he should have chased after you,” Niall said, like that would have been the obvious thing to do. “You were worth chasing after, and you're worth waiting for.”

Liam sipped on his drink so that he could easier swallow down the protest that wanted to escape, but also because he needed to cool down his suddenly hot face. Niall took that as a cue to change the subject.

“Has this trip to Ireland been better than your last one?”

“Much.”

“Good.”

“I still can't believe that you're the boy I met at the zoo, though.”

“I know,” Niall agreed. “You're even more gorgeous than I imagined you would be after all this time.”

Liam huffed out a small laugh.

“At that age, I had nowhere to go but up,” he said.

“I thought you were cute,” Niall said with a smile.

“Thanks,” Liam said, but it was then that a sudden unpleasant thought settled itself upon him, and his smile quickly turned to a frown.

“What's wrong?” Niall asked immediately.

“Nothing is wrong, I guess. I was just wondering...You're coming back here after the tour, right?”

“Probably, unless I find a job prospect somewhere else…Or if something inspires me to move.”

Liam nodded, forcing another small smile even though he didn't feel any of his previous happiness at all. He took a drink of his soda, wishing it were alcohol, which they had in the mini fridge, but instead of getting himself one, Liam swallowed his drink and then kissed Niall. Niall accepted the kiss, even setting down the remaining couple bites of his sandwich to return it. After a minute, both of their meals had been moved to the nightstand and Niall was laying on top of Liam, snaking his hands up his shirt to feel his abs.

_This is it_ , Liam thought as Niall made a small moan into his mouth. _It's actually happening_.

But then, just as Liam was about to help Niall get his shirt off, the Irishman collapsed onto the bed next to Liam, looking at him with an ornery smile on his face.

“Why?” Liam groaned.

“I'm eating,” Niall said simply, kissing Liam before sitting up and gathering his food again.

“You make me crazy,” Liam said as Niall popped a chicken nugget into his mouth (because of course he got a sandwich and chicken nuggets too.)

“In a good way or bad?” the other asked after mostly chewing his food up.

“Good,” Liam decided after thinking on it for a moment. There may have been a little bad in there too, but he wasn't going to tell Niall that because Liam was probably just bad crazy all on his own. Niall smiled, but Liam apparently wasn't done speaking yet, much to his own surprise.

“I seriously don't even know who I am anymore,” he said.

“I think you're actually just starting to discover yourself,” Niall suggested. “I think you're figuring out who you are without the walls you put up for everyone, including yourself.”

“Whoa, Dr. Psychologist, I need a drink after that session!” Liam said, no longer able to resist his longing for a nice cold beer. “Want one?” he asked as he made his way to the mini fridge.

“Sure.”

Liam took out two bottles and handed one to Niall as he joined him again on the bed. The men propped themselves against the headboard on pillows, popped their caps, sighed and then took a drink all in synch with each other. Then, they laughed.

“Wasn't that cute?” Niall asked rhetorically, and Liam giggled his agreement. Suddenly, Liam thought that it would be okay if Niall wanted to come back to Ireland after the tour because, if he wanted him to, then Liam would come with him. Currently, he may only be at a hotel in a country he knew next to nothing about, but in that moment, he'd never felt more at home.

***Harry***

On Sunday, Harry received the news from his mother that she would be attending the upcoming Saturday’s show along with his father and sister. Over the phone, Harry told his mom that he couldn't wait, but inside, he was on the edge of freaking out, and not in a good way. He felt terrible that he didn't want them to come but it was nothing against them, of course. It was just that, even though Harry didn't think he looked like he'd lost any weight, the scale claimed otherwise. Every time he sneaked off to a hotel fitness room while Louis was showering, the number read a little less. The only explanation Harry could come up with was that he was losing the little amount of muscle he'd had and gaining fat. Supposedly, muscle weighed more than fat.

Harry's mom tended to think he look skinner every time she was him regardless of if he had gained or lost weight, and Harry hoped she wouldn't make him weigh himself, but he knew the possibility was high. That was bound to lead to trouble. Anne had taken the goal weight that the doctors in rehab had assigned Harry and used it as the only mark that he was healthy. Then, she'd added a few pounds as Harry grew taller. Sometimes Harry thought she secretly hated him.

Now, Harry was twenty pounds under that rehab goal, and while he wasn't in so much denial that he claimed all of his eating habits to be normal, his family would freak out much more than necessary. Their stress would likely lead to Louis worrying and, if the worst happened, Harry would be forced to drop out of the tour and go to rehab again, leaving behind his love and his dream.

So, yeah, Harry thought he had good reason to not be terribly thrilled over this news.

After pacing back and forth in the empty hotel room (Louis being downstairs working out), Harry came up with a possible solution. It wasn't the best, and it was absolutely terrifying, but it was all Harry had in the moment.

He was going to try to gain weight. He didn't need to, no matter what any doctor or scale said, but experience had taught Harry that his family would rather him be too heavy than what they considered too light, and so for the next week, he would get as close to that goal weight as he could. In the mean time, he would hate himself, but Harry wasn't quite ready to give up Louis yet.

“Hey, babe,” Louis greeted when he got back from exercising. He looked so cute all pink-faced and sweaty, and despite the fact that Harry still felt awful inside, he managed to smile.

“Hi,” he said. “Have a good work out?”

“It was pretty good, yeah. I really need to shower, though.”

“Okay, but real quick, I wanted to tell you that my parents and sister are coming to your show on Saturday.”

“Oh, yeah, Dean told me a little bit ago,” Louis said with his own smile. “I didn't know if they wanted it to be a surprise or not, but I'm glad they're coming.”

“Me too,” Harry lied. Louis smiled again and was about to round the corner into the bathroom when Harry called out to him.

“Hey, can I take you to dinner tonight?”

Louis stopped moving completely for a moment and didn't say anything. Harry didn't take offense. He knew that Louis had noticed him eating slightly less recently and thought the singer was probably just trying to figure out if he'd heard him correctly.

“I'd love that,” he finally said.

“Great,” Harry said, his stomach already churning. “We'll pick a place when you get out of the shower.”

  


Harry ordered two drinks that night, knowing he was going to have to be fairly intoxicated to do this. Besides, alcohol was supposed to really put weight on a person and Harry figured if he had to gain anything, that this was the funner way to do that.

On top of his two drinks, Harry ordered an actual meal, not just a salad or a lone piece of chicken. He ate the chicken, but he also ate bread, potatoes and a vegetable, as well as some of the sauce that came with his meat. It was oddly enjoyable at first. Harry was pretty sure his taste buds were actually throwing a party, but the pleasure didn't last long. Harry was only halfway through his meal when he had to bolt to the bathroom to let it all back up.

“It's okay, love,” Louis said soothingly, rubbing Harry's back because of course he'd followed, as if Harry wasn't embarrassed enough.

“I think it was the alcohol,” Harry claimed, even though it wasn't true. He'd had to get sick because his body had been too disgusted with the excessive amount of fat and calories he'd been putting into it.

_Pig._

“Yeah, the alcohol made me feel a little funny too,” Louis agreed anyway. “We'll get out of here. You can wait outside if you need to. I'll take care of the bill and call the driver.”

“I'll be okay,” Harry assured Louis, fearing that he would start crying if left alone.

_Why in the world was Louis even interested in him?_

  


“I feel gross,” Harry told Louis once they were back at the hotel, and he did, but only part of it was from getting sick. Most of the dirtiness he felt, water wasn't going to be able to wash away but that didn't mean that Harry wasn't going to try.

In the shower was where Harry ended up breaking down. He didn't cry long, but he knew it would be pointless to try to stop himself. That would only prolong the inevitable and Harry would much rather crack alone in the shower than around Louis.

“What's wrong?” Louis asked when Harry exited the bathroom. Harry's eyes were still a bit red, but he was going to try to play it off.

“Nothing,” he answered, getting into the bed next to Louis. “Just still don't feel great.”

Louis kissed the back of Harry's neck before pulling him closer.

“I'm sorry, baby,” he said.

“What are you sorry for?”

“Because you don't feel good,” Louis answered, though Harry thought he had paused to think about that answer. He decided to go with it anyway, knowing the pause could have just been in his head.

“You don't either,” Harry noted, remembering what Louis had told him in the restaurant bathroom.

“I'm okay. I just drank way too fast because I was trying to keep up with you,” Louis said, a teasing tone in his voice.

“Well, you didn't vomit, so I think you win.”

Louis moved his arms just enough to intertwine his fingers with Harry's.

“Can I do anything to help you?” the singer asked.

“This is perfect.”

Somehow, despite the day he'd had, Harry felt himself suddenly relaxing and even becoming sleepy. He even almost smiled when he felt Louis kiss the back of his neck again.

“Are you cold?” the singer asked.

“A little,” Harry said, and so Louis pulled the blankets closer until they were tucked underneath Harry's chin. The dancer hummed in near content.

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome. Feel better, tiny dancer.”

  


Harry didn't feel better when he woke. In fact, he believed it to be the stabbing pains in his stomach that woke him and he was gagging before he even opened his eyes. Luckily, he managed to not be sick and the nausea left almost immediately. Even luckier, Louis was still asleep. He was also sweating and so Harry removed the top blanket from his body and then put on some socks to get a small bag of nuts from a nearby vending machine in the hallway. He ate half of the bag and left the rest for when Louis woke.

  


After the ordeal at the restaurant, Harry took his gaining weight goal slower. He didn't want to start rumors that he had turned bulimic on top of everything else.

Even still, it only took Harry two days to gain three pounds.

_This is good,_ he told himself as he stared at the number. _You needed to gain weight until your family leaves. They'll think you're okay. This is good._

No matter how hard Harry tried to get himself to believe that, it didn't feel like a good thing and there were tears rolling down his cheeks before he could even think to try to stop them.

“Harry!” Liam gasped when he entered the fitness room mere minutes later to find his friend sitting on the scale, still crying. All Harry had needed was five minutes alone, but now he was embarrassed yet again.

Liam hurried over to sit on his knees by Harry and pulled the other into a hug. He didn't ask what was wrong, but Harry supposed it was pretty self explanatory.

“It's okay, Harry,” Liam said. “You're perfect. Don't listen to the scale. You're perfect.”

Harry knew that he was only saying that because he thought it was appropriate, but he let Liam keep telling him those well-intentioned but empty words.

“What's wrong?” Louis asked when Harry was back in the room. Usually, he made it back before the other was even out of the shower, but his slight breakdown had delayed things and the evidence of that breakdown was streaked all down his face.

“I don't know,” Harry said, the true answer being too complicated to explain and pretty much assuring his ticket to a facility. Louis frowned, pulling Harry into a hug. He didn't let go, even as he began to speak.

“Have you thought about talking to someone again or going back on your medication?”

“I just need time,” Harry said. He'd pulled himself from the brink of his disorder many times before. Surely, he could do the same this time; it was just taking a bit longer. “Can we lay down?”

Louis pulled away from Harry, but took his hand and led him to the bed. He stayed sitting cross-legged, so Harry laid with his head resting in the singer's lap. As Louis began playing with his hair, Harry closed his eyes, pretending it was possible to stay like that forever.

  


Harry gained two more pounds before his family came, which he had mixed feelings about. He was happy it wasn't more, but also nervous that it wouldn't be enough for them. Most of all, he was disgusted that he'd gained anything at all.

The weight gain was impacting his dancing too, Harry knew. Though their stylist had been worrying over having to re-alter his costumes before, when they had been getting big on him again, they now felt tight and Harry was too self-conscious to perform to the best of his ability. Everyone was too nice to mention it, but that didn't stop Harry from being afraid that he would be dropped from the tour now anyway.

On the positive side, Harry had gotten better at forcing a smile and fighting his tears with every pound he gained so maybe he could convince those who cared that everything really was okay.

  


As soon as Harry's mom saw him, she pulled him into a bone-crushing hug, and he immediately plastered the smile on his face, not letting it falter while he hugged his father or sister either. He even kept it up once the hugs were done and he introduced Louis.

“It's so nice to finally meet you,” Anne had told the singer, pulling him into a hug. Harry mouthed that he was sorry behind her back, but Louis's smile seemed genuine enough. “Thank you so much for giving Harry this opportunity.”

“If I didn't, somebody else would have. He's amazing,” Louis told her, and Gemma shot Harry a wide smile that only made the blush on his face deepen.

“I'm glad it was you though,” Anne said. Louis assured her that he felt the same way.

  


Harry's family hung around backstage for a little while, and though Louis did most of the talking, it was going great. Harry was happy that they'd hit it off so well, even if there was an ache in his chest that he couldn't explain or get to go away.

“Well, I guess we should get to our spots and leave you boys to finish getting ready,” Anne announced when Beatrice found Harry for wardrobe. “Would it be possible to get together with you two before we leave on Tuesday?”

“You're staying that long?” Harry asked, immediately afterward realizing that he shouldn't have said anything.

“Yes,” Anne answered simply.

“Yeah, we're not hitting the road until Monday, so we should be able to do that,” Louis spoke

“Perfect,” Anne said, smiling, but Harry couldn't even fake one back this time. He felt ganged up on and sick.

“I need to go change,” he mumbled, hurrying off, but instead of going to the dressing room, he went outside. He knew they had all seen where he went, but he didn't care. He just hoped no one followed him. Harry was angry at every single one of them for reasons he wasn't even sure of himself, but he wasn't fighting it, feeling as if it was validated anyway.

***Louis***

“He's acting weird. I don't like it.”

“Shh,” Anne said, hushing her daughter softly before turning to Louis and offering a smile. Louis was too nervous to return it.

“What do I do?” he asked.

“The best I know is to be gentle, yet forceful. You can't show him when you're upset, and he needs patience, but at the same time, he has to be made to eat.”

“He does eat, though,” Louis said. “Just not a lot and I'm afraid to push him to eat more because it will upset him.”

“I know, dear, but that's what has to be done.”

“How can I make him eat more?”

Gemma chose to answer that one.

“Not by holding him down and shoving food in his mouth.”

“Gemma,” Mr. Styles, who had insisted on being called Des, said warningly. Quickly and gently, Anne grabbed Louis's shoulder and led him out of ear shot of the other two.

“I'm sorry about that,” she said. “Gemma is just worried.”

“It's okay,” Louis assured her. “I am too.”

“Has Harry been taking his medication?”

“No. I thought he was off them?”

“Is that what he told you?” Anne asked, her mouth forming a tight line. Louis stayed quiet, but he didn't really need to say anything. The woman sighed.

“He's not supposed to be off them,” she said. Louis realized then that he probably should have known that all along.

“I'm sorry for letting this happen to Harry again,” he said, wanting to cry, but holding it together well.

“This isn't your fault at all,” Anne said, her voice soothing, but it still didn't do much to calm Louis down. She continued, “I thought I was seeing signs of a relapse before this tour even began and I didn't do anything.”

She paused and sighed.

“I'll talk to him after the show,” she decided. “I don't want to upset him anymore than we've already upset him.”

Louis nodded.

“I love him,” he admitted, and he wasn't sure why, but he couldn't stop himself. “I haven't told him yet,” he continued, “but I do love him.”

Anne beamed, and Louis thought he saw moisture in her eyes for a moment too, but with a blink, they were gone.

“There isn't anything wrong with telling him that,” she said to Louis. “I'm not so naive as to think that love will be his magical cure. Lord knows we all tried to love him enough for that...But even if it can't cure him, it can't hurt either.”

The thought of telling Harry the true extent of his feelings for him made Louis both nervous and excited.

It was hard for him to refrain from telling the other man those three little words before going on stage and then again during their show and afterward with their after-show snack when he took a bite. It was even harder not to tell him when he began scooting his food around his plate with a frown on his face. Harry had said barely a word to Louis since talking to his mom after the final curtain had gone down, and Louis wasn't going to push him to say anything. Perhaps that was why it was so hard for him to get his 'I love you' out. He didn't want Harry to feel pressured to say it back, and he was also terrified of the possibility that Harry wouldn't feel pressured at all; that he just wouldn't say it because, for him, it wasn't true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to add again that, for the story's purposes, Harry's biological parents are still together...I mean no disrespect to any of them, including Harry's step-father :)


	29. Chapter 29

***Harry***

“I'm not going! It's just a way for you all to test me!”

“Harry, babe, no one is testing you. Your family wants to spend time with you and going to dinner is a normal thing to do when-”

“I'm not normal!”

The small voice in Harry's head was telling him to calm down; that he was freaking out and basically yelling at Louis for no reason, and while Harry believed it, he couldn't get calm. It was almost as if he was having an out-of-body experience with the lack of self control he had at the moment. He was going to regret all of this later, but what was one more regret, really?

“I'm not normal, and this is your lot's way of reminding me of that!”

“No, love, that came out so wrong. I'm sorry,” Louis said, and he did look and sound as if he truly meant the words, so Harry lowered his voice, but only a little.

“I'm still not going.”

“Okay, what about if we do something else then?”

“Like what? They want to do dinner!”

“No, they want to spend time with you. I don't think it matters what we do. We could see a film or something.”

The cinema; a place where Harry wouldn't be expected to talk. He'd done enough of that the previous night after the show, when his mom had all but cornered him and forced him to discuss 'certain matters' with her. 'Certain matters' meant, of course, his disorder, but she was careful to never say the word. Instead, she called it his 'problem' and while Harry appreciated her effort, he wasn't sure that 'problem' was any better than 'disorder.' In fact, it may have been worse, but he didn't tell her that because she was right. Harry had problems and he was a problem.

“A film sounds nice,” Harry said, his voice finally at a normal volume. He blinked against the moisture in his eyes and sniffled a bit.

“Okay,” Louis said, the corners of his mouth quirking upward, but never turning into a full smile. “Great.”

“Will you call them though?”

“Sure.”

Harry reached into his back pocket to pull out his phone and hand it shamefully to Louis.

“Thank you,” he nearly whispered, and quickly turned to collapse onto the bed and bury his head underneath the pillow. He concentrated heavily on not listening to the conversation Louis was having with either his mom, dad or sister; instead singing one of the man's songs in his head until he felt the bed dip down from another's body weight.

“What do you want to see?” Louis asked, touching Harry on the back lightly.

“I don't care,” Harry said, and then went back to not listening.

“Babe?” Louis asked a couple minutes later.

“Hm?”

“We're meeting them at the cinema at seven. Is that good?”

“Yeah.”

Taking the pillow off of his head, Harry saw that his phone was locked and was sitting on the bed next to him. He let out a small smile, relieved.

“Thank you,” he said again.

“You're welcome,” Louis said, kissing Harry's forehead before standing up and going to the bathroom. The dancer's smile faded instantly. Louis probably wasn't actually being cold with him, he told himself. There was nothing short about his words and maybe he really did have to go to the bathroom.

Still, Harry couldn't help but to feel like he let Louis down, and his family too. He'd already done a good job of that the other night, when his family found out that he'd lied to them about taking his pills and Louis discovered that he'd lied to him about not having to, but, infuriatingly, they wouldn't tell him that. They'd hugged him and assured him that it was alright; said they were just worried and wanted to help him the best they could. Harry wished with all of his heart that they'd yelled at him and told him how upset he made them because he deserved it. Anyone else would have been rightfully told off for lying to their folks and their boyfriend, so why was Harry an exception? Just because he had a problem?

Harry had wanted to scream. He still did, but instead, he swallowed and got off the bed.

“Lou?” he asked, knocking on the bathroom door.

“Yeah?” he heard from inside.

“Um….are you mad at me?”

“What? No,” Louis answered. From inside, the toilet flushed and when it stopped, Louis opened the door, drying his hands on a towel. “Why do you think that?”

“Just making sure,” Harry said, though he still wasn't 'sure' one way or the other. “Are you going to get something to eat before we go?”

“I don't know. I might just get something there. We have to leave a little early to pick up your prescription still.”

“I know,” Harry sighed.

After talking to Harry, Anne had taken it upon herself to make an emergency call to his old psychiatrist the very next morning and, somehow, she had gotten him to send a prescription for Harry's anti-depressants to a nearby pharmacy. Of course, the doctor requested that Harry call and have a phone session with him soon, but Harry wasn't so sure about all of that.

“I'm proud of you,” Louis said, throwing the towel onto the bathroom counter before kissing Harry, who snorted right in the middle of the kiss.

“Why do you say that?” he asked when the singer raised an eyebrow.

“Because I am,” he said. “You're trying. I know you are, and I know you feel like we're all against you right now, but we're not. I just hope part of you recognizes that.”

“It's all good,” Harry said lamely as embarrassment started to settle upon him. He'd been acting like a brat recently; barely talking to anyone and choosing instead to lie in bed and sulk. Why did everyone refuse to be angry at him?

“Nap before the movie?” Louis asked.

“You actually want to nap?!” Harry replied, clutching his chest in dramatic shock. “Are you feeling okay?! Should I call the doctor up?!”

“I'm fine,” Louis assured him with a laugh. “Just haven't gotten much sleep the past couple of nights and it's starting to catch up with me.”

“You haven't been sleeping?” Harry asked with a frown.

“I have, just not as well as usual. My mind hasn't been wanting to turn off.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“No, babe. I'm fine, but...nap?”

Even though Harry wasn't the least bit tired, he agreed and, while Louis slept, Harry continued silently berating himself, this time for stressing his boyfriend out so much that he couldn't sleep. He wasn't worth losing sleep over. He wasn't really worth anything, and, briefly, he wondered if he should end it with Louis now, for the singer's own good, but he knew he couldn't. Most of his reasons were selfish, but not all of them. Louis's tour was going so well and he was performing amazingly every single night. That was what people needed to focus on; not a break-up that would for sure make the tabloids and make their routines extremely awkward for everyone involved.

 

Harry felt shame in the car as Louis's driver stopped at the pharmacy for him to pick up his medicine. The driver probably didn't know what they were stopping for, nor did he probably care, but Harry couldn't help but feel weak; pathetic even.

He felt even more shame when they reached the cinema and his family pulled him into a hug because he'd seen the momentary look of sadness in their eyes when they saw him-the disappointment of the family. Even though they didn't ask a single question about his mental health or push him to get junky food at the concession stand, Harry almost wished they would, despite those being his two biggest fears for the night. They had questions, he knew, and there was an awkward tension amongst them all for the words they refused to say.

Louis was the saving grace in it all. He wasn't oblivious, Harry knew, but he was a better actor than the rest and could pretend that he didn't notice anything. He brought up small talk that all could participate in before the movie started and then, when it began, assured them all that they would talk later before resting his head on Harry's shoulder.

After the movie, Louis and Harry got stopped for a picture, which Gemma offered to take, and Harry wished she hadn't been giving him that concerned look the whole time. No, he didn't like pictures, but he was getting used to them by now, even if he was still confused as to why Louis's fans wanted him in the photograph as well.

“Well, lovey, I hope I get to see you again soon,” Anne said to her son as he and his boyfriend walked the three to their rental vehicle.

“Just let me know when you want to come to another show,” Louis said. “Now, not to be rude, but I missed a call from Dean and I have to go return it before he has a fit. I'm so happy that I got to meet you all. Thanks so much for coming.”

Anne, Des and Gemma all thanked Louis as well and passed around hugs, and then Louis hurried off, unlocking his phone as he went to his car. The singer had insisted on not dragging Alberto along with them that night, but Harry was regretting that decision only because he didn't like that it was too dark to see if Louis made it to the car alright.

“Be good, baby,” Anne spoke up, interrupting Harry's thoughts. He forced the tiniest of smiles.

“Yes, mum. I got my medicine on the way here. I'll start in the morning.”

“Good. Good, good, good. I love you, you know that, right?”

“Of course, mum.”

The woman hugged her son, expected tears welling up in her eyes before she passed him on to his father and sister.

“I'll be fine,” Harry felt the need to assure them all, because that was what he was supposed to do, he thought. “I'm sorry for...well…everything, but I'm not like how I used to be. I promise.”

“You better not get like that again,” Gemma warned before taking her second hug from her brother.

“Promise,” Harry said, only mildly alarmed at how easily the untrue promises could slip from his mouth now.

Well, perhaps they weren't so untrue because come morning, he would start taking his anti-depressants and, if it went like last time, they would work well enough to shut down the part of his mind that cared if he was at all attractive and desirable. He would eat and blow up and probably lose his boyfriend and potentially his job, but the medicine would make sure he was fine.

 

“Everything okay with Dean?” Harry asked as he climbed into the car with Louis once parting from his family.

“Yeah,” Louis answered. “He just wants me to let you all know that we'll be able to watch the 'Summer Song' video tomorrow.”

“Oh, god.”

“That didn't sound very excited,” Louis said with a short laugh.

“No, sorry, I'm sure it's a great video.”

“You just don't want to watch yourself,” Louis stated. When Harry didn't say anything, Louis sighed, shifting so that he could kiss Harry's shoulder before laying his head in his lap. His eyes were closed, but he continued speaking. “You looked beautiful that day, and every other day.”

“You don't have to compliment me every time I get like...well...Every time I get like I do.”

“I know, but I want to. It's, like, psychology or something; the more you tell someone something, the more believable it becomes.”

“Sure, babe,” Harry laughed, twisting a strand of Louis's hair around his finger before stroking his cheek. A small smile touched Louis's face.

“I have to tell you something when we get to the hotel. Make sure I do,” he said.

“You can't tell me here?” Harry asked.

“I would rather tell you there.”

“Okay, superstar. Whatever you want.”

 

The ride back to the hotel wasn't long, but Louis managed to doze off on the way. Somehow, he startled himself awake as soon as the car parked and he smiled at Harry, rubbing his eyes and apologizing. Harry assured him that he had nothing to apologize for and offered a piggy-back ride to the room, but Louis declined, so Harry held his hand instead.

Harry and Louis brushed their teeth together and then Harry went to lay in bed while Louis used the toilet. When he came out, he hadn't appeared to liven up at all and collapsed next to Harry, sighing as he moved close and intertwined their legs, his face nestled into Harry's back.

“Did you like the film?” Louis asked, his voice groggy and muffled so that Harry could barely understand him.

“I did,” Harry answered. “Did you?”

“Mhm. It was funny.”

“Get some sleep, Lou.”

“Wait. Have to tell you something first.”

“What is it?”

A beat passed before Louis spoke again.

“I love you.”

Harry frowned, picking his brain to figure out what else Louis could have said besides what he thought he'd heard, but nothing was coming to mind.

“Sorry, what did you say?” he asked, causing Louis to giggle. He pulled away from Harry and sat up enough to kiss Harry's shoulder. The dancer turned his head to meet Louis's eyes, glad to see a small smile on the singer's face.

“What do you think I said?” Louis asked.

“I've no idea.”

Louis gave him a look like he didn't believe him, but repeated himself anyway.

“I said I love you. This probably isn't the best way to tell you...Definitely not the most romantic, but whenever the moment is right, I chicken out. Don't worry, you don't have to say it back, but-”

“I love you,” Harry returned quickly, only thinking about it for a second. He'd known for a while that he loved Louis, but had never wanted to say it first for fear of making things awkward, or worse. While he didn't know if he believed that Louis truly loved him (he believed Louis thought he did, at least), Harry truly loved Louis and wanted him to know that, even if it took their relationship to a new level that would hurt even worse when it crumbled.

Nothing hurt right then though. For the first time in a while, Harry's pain was buried by the bright smile on Louis's tired face, his sweet voice saying those three words echoing in Harry's ears.

“Good night, tiny dancer,” Louis said after the two stared at each other for an unnecessarily long amount of time.

“'Night, super star,” Harry said.

“I love you,” Louis told him again after a couple of moments. Harry was glad that he had turned his head again because his smile was unattractively wide; he could feel it.

“And I love you.”

***Niall***

Niall's phone was beeping much too loudly. He couldn't remember turning the volume up, but it was pulling him painfully from his slumber, causing his head to pound.

Or maybe that was the hangover.

“Silence, you wretched creation of man kind,” Niall heard Liam's slurred voice demand. “Sh, you're going to wake up Niall.”

“Already did,” the blonde groaned, opening one eye and pretending the faint light beaming through the curtains wasn't setting fire to his skull.

“Fuck. Sorry,” Liam apologized before taking a sip from the bottle he was holding.

“Drinking again already?” Niall asked, picking his just silenced phone off the night stand. He had a missed call from his mother, but if she didn't leave a voice mail, it wasn't important, so Niall would call her back later when he wasn't unfairly angry at her for waking him up.

“It was the only way to cure my hangover,” Liam explained.

“I feel like you're only delaying the inevitable,” Niall told him. “Seems a bit...”

He trailed off before finishing the second thought, aware of how sensitive Liam was to being compared to an alcoholic. Besides, Niall couldn't much talk when he had participated in the pair's binge drinking session while out last out. In fact, Niall couldn't even remember when they'd arrived back at the hotel.

“How do you do this every night?” he said to the other man instead.

“I haven't done it that often recently,” Liam pointed out, sitting clumsily by Niall's feet.

“True, you haven't,” Niall agreed. Liam kissed him-missing his mouth the first time-and offered a drink of his beverage, but Niall declined; the smell of the alcohol alone making him nauseous. Watching Liam down more nearly made him gag.

“Oh, come on,” the drunk man said, patting Niall's thigh before standing. “We have to go.”

“Fuck, I'm not even packed,” Niall sighed.

“I packed for you,” Liam announced cheerily. “Come on, we have to go to Louis's bus!”

“Wait, why Louis's?”

“Oh, yeah, Dean sent us a text saying to meet Louis in his tour bus if we want to watch his video for...um...for that one we were in.”

“'Summer Song?'”

“Yeah. That was fun.”

“It was fun,” Niall agreed, sparing a glance at the clock by the bed. He could sleep for another fifteen minutes or so if they skipped out on watching the video, and it was sure to be online soon anyway, but Liam seemed excited to watch it and Niall wouldn't dream of telling him to go alone, so the hungover man slowly got himself out of bed to brush his teeth and spray himself with some body spray. Then he led Liam to the buses.

“Good morning, lads,” Liam greeted the two men in the elevators, nodding his head and attempting to convince them he was sober when he still had a vodka bottle in his hand. Niall hid his face to muffle his snort. Laughing was the last thing he wanted to do right then, but he couldn't help it. He didn't know why almost every small thing Liam did endeared him so.

Well, yes he did.

“Whoa, Ni, long night?” Zayn asked as he and Liam climbed onto Louis's bus after dropping their things at their own.

“Shut up,” Niall said, reaching behind himself to steady Liam, who had stumbled up the step.

“Liam, continuing last night?” Zayn asked.

“Cheers,” Liam replied before taking a long swig from his drink.

Louis and Harry entered the bus soon after Niall and Liam, and both quirked their eyebrows when they noticed Liam's choice in breakfast.

“Bit early for that, innit?” Louis asked.

“Drink,” Liam ordered, putting the bottle to Louis's lips and all but forcing him to take a swallow. Louis winced as it went down.

“Delicious,” the singer said politely.

“Oh shit, Louis, my bum is in your video,” Liam remembered.

“Yes, it is,” Louis said, all of them ignoring another dancer who had piped in to tell Liam that he had a nice bum. It didn't bother Niall, though, of course. Not at all.

“We all need ta go out 'gain,” Liam said to his friends. “We can go car-key.”

“We can go where?” Zayn asked, an amused smile on his face. Liam sighed and concentrated on pronouncing the word better.

“Car-a-kee.”

“Karaoke?” Niall suggested. Liam clapped and pointed to him.

“Yes!”

“You're a hot mess, mate,” Zayn said quietly, but not so quiet to where Liam couldn't hear.

“I'm hot though?” he asked. Zayn chose not to reply so Liam turned to Niall.

“I'm hot?”

“You're gorgeous,” Niall assured him. Smiling, Liam gave him a kiss.

 

It was a tight squeeze, but everyone who had been in the video fit in front of Louis's television. Niall wasn't too fond of big, tight crowds, but he decided that he was okay as long as he was on Liam's lap.

The video turned out better than Niall had expected, and he'd had high expectations anyway. It had all felt chaotic while filming, but all of the scenes flowed well and everyone truly did seem to be having a good time. Even Harry on the screen was smiling, seeming not to have a care in the world. The Harry on the bus, however, looked slightly stressed, keeping his eyes downcast slightly so that he wasn't actually looking at the screen.

Once the video was over, everyone began cheering and clapping, but then they were interrupted by another scene appearing on the television. The editor had chose to keep in the part at the end where Liam pushed Harry and Louis into the pool, and laughter erupted all around. Niall loved the vibrations he felt from Liam's chest as he laughed.

“Pricks! I can't believe you left that in!” Louis yelled at Dean, who held up his hands defensively.

“The video had nothing to do with me. I just manage your life.”

“Do you think my bum looked okay?” Liam asked.

 

As Liam had wished, he, Niall, Zayn, Louis and Harry went out that night after reaching their destination. They were all tired, but had been cooped up in buses far too long and needed to get out for a while and so, also per Liam's request, they found the nearest karaoke bar to their hotel, loaded up Alberto and went on their way.

Liam had fallen asleep about a half hour into the bus ride, and as Niall had known he would, he woke up more hungover than ever, but Liam had told him that was nothing that a little more alcohol couldn't fix and he began drinking again. Niall was worried about him, but decided to let it go just for the day. He didn't own Liam and couldn't control him. If necessary, he would intervene for his health, but he was hoping that Liam would realize what he was doing wasn't good all on his own.

“Firs' drinks on me,” Liam told the group as they entered the bar, and he stumbled his way to the bar. Zayn and Louis followed, as well as Niall and Harry, but the latter two trailed back a bit further.

“Has he been drunk all day?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Do you think we should talk to him?”

“Just give him tonight,” Niall said. Harry didn't look happy about it, but he nodded in agreement.

“Niall! What do you want?” Liam asked as the blonde approached the bar.

“Nothing, thanks,” Niall said, having had his fair share of alcohol the previous night.

“Please!” Liam begged.

“I'll have one single drink on one condition.”

“Wuzzit?”

“You have to perform a song by yourself.”

“What song?”

“Anything you want.”

“Hm…okay. But what do you want?”

“Surprise me.”

Liam ordered their drinks and, after he and Louis had a mini fight over who was paying (Liam won) everyone thanked him and went to the karaoke room.

“Go put in your song, hot stuff. A deal's a deal,” Niall said. Liam looked down the bridge of his nose at him, but there was a smile on his face, and when Niall returned the mock-glare, Liam giggled and went off to request his song.

“Do you know if he's any good?” Zayn asked, licking the salt off the side of his glass before taking a long drink.

“I don't know,” Niall said. “I've never heard him sing, but he said he likes to. One of the things on his bucket list is to record something in a studio.”

“Really?” Louis asked, sitting in a chair but leaning forward curiously. The others sat down as well.

“Yeah,” Niall said.

“Hm,” Louis hummed before taking a sip of his own beverage. Harry glanced at him, a small smile on his face and then Zayn looked to Niall to raise an eyebrow. Niall felt as if something significant may have just gone down, but he didn't want to get his hopes up.

“Okay, I put one in!” Liam announced when he returned to the group. His drink was already half gone and Niall had to prevent him from falling off the chair as he sat down next to him.

“Are you going to be able to perform?” Harry asked, genuinely concerned.

“Yeah, I'm great! The clouds will carry me through!”

“The clouds?”

“Yes.”

“Are you floating on clouds?” Niall asked, resting his chin on his hand and gazing at Liam's bloodshot eyes lovingly. A hot mess Liam may be, but he was the most lovable hot mess that Niall had ever met.

“I'm floating on glittery clouds.”

“Wow. That sounds pretty awesome.”

“You're pretty awesome.”

Niall smiled, wishing, as he always did, that he could kiss Liam.

 

“Oh god, this is going to be a disaster. I'm covering my ears.”

The karaoke bar was quite busy that night and Liam had time to drink another full drink before going up to perform his song; 'Fallin' by Alicia Keys.

“Zayn, don't be rude,” Niall said, playfully shoving the other singer on the arm. “He can't be any worse than the guy a couple songs ago.”

“Please, I'm trying to forget about that man.”

“Sh, sh,” Louis hushed them gently, a smile on his face as Liam cleared his throat into the microphone. Niall didn't know if it was the alcohol or if Liam secretly knew that he was a good singer, but he didn't appear to be nervous at all, and when the time came, he opened up his mouth and belted out the lyrics like he'd been doing this professionally for years. Simultaneously, the group's mouths dropped open, and they weren't the only ones.

“Holy shit,” Zayn mouthed once he and Niall glanced at each other after the first chorus had passed. Other than Liam, the place was nearly silent. Even the bartender had abandoned his spot to see who was up.

In response to his friend, all Niall could do was nod.

Liam wasn't only an amazing singer, but he was a great performer too. He walked around the place as far as the microphone cord would allow, and towards the end, he made eye contact with Niall, gave a half smile without missing a note and motioned for him to join. Niall shook his head, but then Zayn forced him up and shoved him lightly to Liam.

 _Is this real life?_ Niall briefly wondered as he walked towards Liam's outstretched hand. Liam spun him around and continued to sing the last few lines to him. Niall's face had to be red, which was completely embarrassing, and that realization only made his blush deepen.

Once the song was over, Liam quickly handed the microphone back to the dj and pulled Niall against him, pressing a hard, hot kiss to his mouth. Niall let out a small noise of surprise, but it was drowned out by the claps, cheers and whistles. Suddenly, he felt like he was floating on glittery clouds too.

After breaking apart, Liam smiled brightly at Niall, who was already smiling right back at him, and then took his hand, leading him to the table (or, more accurately, allowing Niall to help him to the table.)

“Payno, that was incredible!” Zayn said, getting out of his seat to hug his fellow dancer.

“It really was amazing, Liam,” Louis said, smiling across the table at the man. “Have you ever thought of going professional?”

“Hm...nope,” Liam said. Niall and Louis exchanged disbelieving glances and then Louis slipped his phone out from his pocket, smirking as he sent a text. When he was done, he put his phone away and turned his body to kiss Harry, who smiled and then rested a head on his shoulder. Louis said something in his ear that caused Harry to laugh, and Niall nearly felt manic. The logical part of him knew that things were too crazy in their lives for everything to be rainbows and butterflies from this point on, but the optimist in him had to acknowledge that at least the rainbows and butterflies were coming out to grace them all with their presence sometimes.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I'm adding this note a little late so I am going to be putting it in the next chapter too, but you can ignore it if you want :p 
> 
> I just wanted to say that this fic is not meant to glamorize eating disorders (or alcoholism or sex addiction, abuse, etc.) They are not glamorous and I would not wish them on anyone. Just felt the need to say that :) if you need help, please seek it


	30. Chapter 30

***Niall***

“How long do you give Liam until he wakes up hating himself?” Zayn asked Niall as the two sat on the bed opposite of where Liam was laying, dead to the world.

The five boys had to leave the bar not too long after Liam's performance the previous night when he nearly got sick on the table and then passed out in the bathroom stall. Alberto walked Niall and Liam to Niall's room to make sure they arrived safely and Zayn stayed, insisting he would never dream of leaving Niall alone when Liam was that far gone. Niall wanted to say that he could handle it all on his own, but he didn't because secretly, he was afraid. Liam had drank much too much during the past twenty-four hours and the gray pallor that his skin had taken on was quite worrying.

Luckily, now that it was morning, the dancer's face had returned to a normal color and he was snoring away peacefully.

“An hour at best,” Niall answered Zayn's question. “I'm surprised he's slept this long. I thought he would have had to wake up and projectile vomit already.”

“Maybe since he did that at the bar, he'll be okay,” Zayn thought, but kicked the trashcan they'd placed by the bed even closer to the sleeping man.

“Maybe,” Niall said. He hoped so.

“Anyway, I think we have other things to discuss,” Zayn said next.

“Like what?” Niall asked.

“Uh, well, the fact that Liam admitted he was in love with you, for one.”

“What? When?”

Zayn appeared speechless for a moment, staring at Niall like he couldn't believe the question. When he spoke, he did so slowly, as if he believed Niall to be challenged.

“With his song...”

“He just likes that song, Zayn.”

“Yeah, right. He was obviously singing it to you.”

“Doesn't mean anything. Besides, that song isn't exactly a happy love song.”

“No, but it matches Liam, doesn't it? Conflicted, scared...”

“He doesn't love me.”

“How do you know what he feels?”

“If he loved me, he wouldn't still be doing this whole impossible-to-get thing.”

“Yeah, he would. It's Liam. He's a mess.”

“Stop calling him that.”

Zayn quirked an eyebrow. Niall remained silent, suddenly fascinated by his fingernails. Zayn laughed.

“You two are ridiculous,” he said lightly. When Niall still chose not to speak, Zayn continued.

“Look, Ni, he told me.”

“Told you what?”

“That he loves you.”

“When?”

“Last night when you went to get him water.”

“Are you fucking with me?”

“No,” Zayn said, sounding offended at the question. “I'm not a complete dick.”

“Well, why would he tell you that?”

“I don't know. Maybe because he wanted to tell you but was too scared. He told me some other things too.”

“What else did he tell you?” Niall asked, slightly offended himself now that Liam felt more comfortable talking to Zayn than to him. Nothing against Zayn, of course, but he wasn't the one who had been trying to show Liam how much he truly loved him for over a month.

“Just shit like he doesn't know what he would do if you made him leave too,” Zayn said with a shrug, like those words meant nothing when Niall thought they could be saying almost everything.

“What does that mean?” Niall asked, hoping that Liam had given Zayn more clarification, but Zayn shrugged again.

“All I got out of it is that he has severe abandonment issues,” Zayn said.

“But he's always the one to run,” Niall pointed out.

“Yeah, probably because it's easier for him to deal with running away than somebody making him go.”

Niall looked over at Liam's sleeping form, feeling an ache in his chest that he couldn't quite explain.

“I wish he would just tell me this stuff.”

“He already feels vulnerable enough around you,” Zayn told him.

“How do I show him that isn't always a bad thing?”

“Fuck if I know, mate. I'm not a relationship kind of guy.”

“Thanks, Zayn.”

The darker haired dancer laughed and then there was a knock on the door.

“I'll get it,” Zayn offered, and got up before Niall could reply.

The voice at the door was hushed, so Niall didn't know who it was until they rounded the corner; Louis and Harry.

“'Morning,” the singer greeted, and then, nodding to Liam, added, “Just wanted to come see if that one was still breathing.”

As if Liam knew he was being talked about, he started to stir.

“Duck and cover!” Zayn whispered frantically, putting a pillow in front of his face.

“Good morning, sleepy head!” Louis called out instead, and Liam's eyes opened for a brief moment before he covered them with his hand, letting out a loud sigh.

“Here, Liam,” Harry spoke, lifting the glass of water off the bedside table as he sat by his friend's feet. “Water.”

“'m fine,” Liam mumbled, rubbing his eyes roughly.

“You're shaking,” Harry pointed out. Niall bit his lip, becoming even more worried than he already was. When he glanced at Louis and Zayn, though, they didn't seem particularly concerned, so maybe he was over-reacting.

“'m fine,” Liam said again, but he sat up and then accepted his cup from Harry, sipping on the water with half closed eyes.

“I'll get you something to eat,” Zayn said, and left the room.

“How much do you remember from last night, Liam?” Louis asked.

“Um...I don't know,” he sighed.

“Do you remember singing?” Louis asked.

 _And kissing me in front of everyone?_ Niall thought, but didn't dare say out loud.

“Kind of.”

“Well, you killed it,” Louis told him.

“In a good way or bad?” Liam asked, his forehead creased like he was extremely worried about the answer.

“Good,” Louis assured him. “You did fantastic. You're already trending online.”

“Wait, what do you mean?” Liam asked, and for the first time sine he woke, Niall was legitimately worried that he might be sick.

“Well, loads of people got the performance on video, myself included,” Louis said. “You may have to join my meet-and-greets.”

“Right,” Liam said with a snort. “What the hell did I sing?”

“'Fallin.' That Alicia Keys song.”

“Oh, fucking hell.”

“It was good,” Louis assured him. “I may have to take you to the studio one day, eh?”

Liam didn’t say anything; just stared Niall down accusingly. Niall did his best to keep a poker face.

“Anyway,” Louis said after a few moments of silence. “Just came to check on you and drop our congratulations. We're about to go to lunch. Anyone want anything?”

“Uh, check back later,” Liam said.

“Okay,” Louis replied as there was another knock on the door; Zayn requesting re-entrance, probably. Niall answered quickly to confirm that it was, in fact, their other friend. He gave a quick smile before bouncing in and throwing a package of donuts at Liam. Somehow, he caught it.

 

“I'm definitely bringing you food,” Louis said. “You need something besides donuts and alcohol in your system. I'll call you when we get to the restaurant.”

As Liam began devouring his donuts, not caring at all about all of the powdered sugar that was getting on the bed, everyone said their goodbyes and all but he and Niall left the room.

“You feel okay, then?” Niall asked as he sat across from the other man and placed a kiss on his forehead.

“I'm really weak, but I'm okay,” Liam said, but Niall wasn't much comforted.

“We have to get you in good condition before the show tonight,” he said. Liam waved an uncaring hand.

“Yeah, I'll be fine,” he said. “So, tell me the truth, did I really do okay last night or did I just humiliate myself?”

“No, you honestly did amazing,” Niall said. Liam returned the smile, but diverted his eyes to his lap before setting his doughnut onto the opened package and pinching the bridge of his nose. Niall noted worriedly that Liam was still shaking. It could just be a blood sugar thing because Liam had consumed a lot between the alcohol and sweets, but it could also be withdrawals.

“Fuck,” Liam sighed, moving one hand to his lap while the other tugged on his hair lightly.

“What's wrong?” Niall asked, resisting the urge to hold Liam's hands. Liam was on edge, and instead of being comforted in times like this, Niall knew him well enough to know that he needed space.

“I was a disaster last night,” Liam said. “I'm sorry.”

“You weren't that bad,” Niall said, because while he had been extremely drunk, he had behaved himself well.

“I can't remember any part of the day, really; at least very well,” Liam said. “It's too much like her.”

The last statement had Niall confused. He had already assumed that there had been an alcoholic in Liam's life that had hurt him and dealt a big part in creating who Liam was, but with everything else that Niall knew about the man, he had thought it to be his father.

When Niall didn't instantly reply, Liam looked up at him and then smiled a little at the obvious confusion on his face. Then, as if he was reading Niall's mind, he said,

“My mum was the drunk. My dad just...”

“Broke your arm?” Niall suggested lightly, his voice thick. Liam sighed and nodded, his eyes downcast again. Even though Niall had already figured out that Liam's injury had been brought upon by his father-and he doubted that was the only time a situation like that had occurred-it still broke his heart to have the fact confirmed. More than that, though, it stirred up a rage in Niall that he didn't think he was capable of feeling until that point; rage at the man who had taken Liam away from him all those years ago.

“I'm sorry that they hurt you, Li,” he said gently, his finger twitching with how much he wanted to take Liam in his arms. “I hope one day you let someone try to make up for all the love you should have gotten before.”

Of course, Niall kept silent on the fact that he hoped that person would be him.

“My mum didn't hurt me,” Liam said quickly, looking back to Niall.“She just drank so that she could sleep through my dad and me fighting.”

“Maybe she didn't physically hurt you,” Niall began, “but as I see it, what she did was still abuse.”

Liam shifted, picking at his jeans nervously.

“I need to shower,” he stated after a brief lapse in time.

“Hold on, please, for just a minute,” Niall asked. Liam stilled, so the Irishman went on. “I'm not going to try to force you to tell me anything that you don't want to, but I do want to know you, Li; all the way, and I think that, maybe, if you tell someone a little bit of what goes on in your head instead of trying to drown your feelings and memories with alcohol, you can start feeling a little better.”

Niall fully expected Liam to get angry and shut down at his words, but, to his shock, he didn't. He paused, and Niall was almost certain his heart didn't beat through the whole thing, but when Liam spoke, he didn't sound angry at all. His tone was unreadable, but it was pretty obvious when he was mad, so Niall thought that, whatever it was that he was feeling, they could work through it.

“Zayn told you what I said, didn't he?” Liam asked.

“You remember what you told Zayn?” Niall returned. Liam nodded.

“Maybe I didn't forget the whole day.”

“I hope you're not mad,” Niall said, wanting confirmation that he was reading Liam at least somewhat correctly.

“I'm not,” Liam assured him. Niall nearly sighed in relief. The other dancer did sigh, probably not in relief.

“I want to talk to you,” he spoke again, “but if I do, you have to tell me something about yourself, okay? Something deep and potentially dark.”

“That's fair,” Niall reasoned.

“Okay,” Liam said. He paused and sighed again, but Niall was patient, and eventually he began talking.

“When my mum and dad got married, they had this dream that they would have two kids; a boy and a girl. It was so stereotypical, but they wanted the boy to be into football and whatnot and the girl to be the artsy princess-type. They didn't count on it being so hard for my mum to get pregnant, but it was, so when they first had me, she called me her miracle baby. After I was born, she got really sick for a while and the doctors told her that I would be their only kid, and so they tried to stick to half of their dream and mold me into their perfect son, but I guess I was more of what they wanted their daughter to be. My dad resented me and, before I was even old enough to think about sexuality, he was calling me f-...he used homosexual slurs against me, and so it was scary when I started actually getting feelings for guys, you know? I'm sure you do because it's probably scary for everyone when they realize that they aren't how they're told they should be, but...Anyway, I eventually accepted it because it was either that or be lonely, so I went on a couple of dates with this guy when I was fifteen. He was only seventeen, but he was a lot more experienced than I was and wanted to move a lot faster than I did. I thought it would be okay, but then when it came time for us to go all the way after the second date, I couldn't go through with it. He got mad; punched me and started saying shit like he hoped I didn't think he was actually interested in dating me and he was in it for one thing and I was useless to him if I wouldn't give in. I left, and when I got home, there was blood on my face still from where he punched me and my mum asked what happened. I told her, but my dad overheard I don't know why he was so shocked since he'd been telling me I was gay from the time I was, like, six, but he lost his mind and kicked me out, so I went to live with my aunt and uncle and...”

Liam trailed off, his eyes suddenly widening.

“And I did not mean to say that much, I'm so sorry.”

“No, hey, don't apologize,” Niall said, allowing himself to touch Liam's hand briefly. He was fighting off his own emotion, but he was glad that Liam told him everything he had. He had seen Liam's walls start to crumble a couple of times before, but never quite that much and somehow, seeing Liam open and maybe even a little vulnerable made Niall love him more. “I meant it when I said that I want to know you, and your past is a part of you. It doesn't make me see you any differently. If anything, you're even stronger than I originally gave you credit for.”

“I'm not.”

“Knew you would say that,” Niall sighed, but with a small smile, he pressed a kiss to Liam's forehead. The tiniest of smiles touched Liam's lips as well and when Niall pulled away, Liam laid down and tugged on his hands to get him to lay down too.

“Okay, it's your turn,” he said.

“My turn?” Niall asked.

“You said that you would tell me something about you.”

“Oh, yes. Something dark and deep, right?”

Liam nodded.

“Okay,” Niall said. “I'm not a hopeless romantic.”

“Really?” Liam asked with one eyebrow quirked.

“Really,” Niall said. “My dad, he's a great guy, don't get me wrong, but he went through some things after the divorce with my mum and he told me over and over when I was younger that love wasn't real and that if I was smart, I would keep to myself. He apologized later and said he was wrong, once I was a teenager and had never been in a relationship, but that had nothing to do with what he said. I still believed in love, but I just wasn't sure it was worth everything that it puts you through. Then I met you.”

Liam raised an eyebrow again, looking curious.

“How does that play into this?” he asked.

“Because that was instantaneous,” Niall said. “I mean, I don't believe in love at first sight or anything, but I do think that you can feel a connection to someone right away and I felt it with you, first at the zoo and then especially at university. But with where we were individually at the time, I didn't think it would work and I was too afraid to try it. I regretted it after you transferred and I thought I was never going to see you again. Then, when we were brought back together for the third time, at Louis's pre-tour party, I still felt the same and I was ready to go after you. That's what I've been doing, slowly and carefully, because the last thing I want to do is scare you away, but...Basically, what I'm trying to say, Liam, is that I'm not a hopeless romantic; I'm just hopelessly in love with you.”

Niall's heart was pounding painfully hard, and it only got worse as Liam stared at him; his expression blank. The only emotion that was showing was in his eyes, but they were so dark that Niall couldn't quite read what it was.

“Niall…,” Liam began, and then sighed before he spoke again. “I'm sorry, but I can't say it back right now.”

“I know, and that's okay,” Niall said, and it was. He hadn't expected Liam to say it back. Quite frankly, he'd expected him to run, but, so far, he hadn't moved an inch further from Niall at all. “You deserve to know you're loved though, Liam.”

“But you deserve to know too,” Liam said, and the look that formed on his face then was quite readable; disappointment. Niall felt as if the person he was disappointed in was himself, and he hated it.

“I do know,” he assured the other. “You don't have to say it. You show it.”

“How…?”

“Well, you haven't run away yet,” Niall noted. There were other things that Liam did to make Niall think that he'd meant those words he'd said to Zayn the previous night, but that was the biggest.

“I don't want to run this time,” Liam said softly, no longer looking in Niall's eyes.

“You'll never have to,” Niall told him, “and I'm not going anywhere either.”

Liam busied himself with playing with the strings on the jacket that Niall was wearing, but Niall kept quiet until he decided that he was ready to speak.

“I would kiss you,” Liam said, “but I'm pretty sure that I threw up everywhere last night and I haven't brushed my teeth yet.”

Niall laughed loudly and then leaned forward to kiss Liam on his forehead again.

“You are correct about that, my dear.”

Liam sat up slowly and stretched his arms out in front of him before getting to his feet slowly. He was still shaking a bit, but not as badly as before.

“I'm going to shower,” he said.

“Okay,” Niall replied. Liam moved slowly while gathering an outfit for the day and Niall watched him, trying to build up courage. He finally did once Liam had flipped on the bathroom light and had one foot in the door.

“Hey, Liam?” he called.

“Yeah?” Liam asked, poking his head around the corner.

“I love you.”

“Don't say that,” Liam said, though there was a smile on his face. “That's a scarier word than the d-word. And also I feel bad that I can't say it back.”

“Fine, but can I say I l-word you?”

“If you must,” Liam allowed after thinking on it for a moment. Niall's grin stretched from ear to ear.

“Well, I l-word you, then. We should go on another something soon.”

Liam smiled but didn't say a word, which was okay. This was further than Niall ever dreamed they could get and maybe, if Niall could get Liam to love himself, then he could love Niall too, or vice versa.

***Harry***

Swallowing his small pill was almost as hard as swallowing food. Louis would watch to make sure he took it (making Harry feel as if he was back in the hospital) and then smile and give him a kiss when he did, but Harry couldn't bring himself to smile back.

“I'm so proud of you,” Louis had said both that day and the day before, and then he kissed Harry. Harry wondered if he would still be proud if he knew how much his mind was screaming at the both of them.

Since it was only day two of his medication, Harry had yet to feel any of the 'benefits,' which Louis seemed to understand and he didn't say a word or blink when Harry ordered off of the diet menu while they were out at lunch. Harry was sure that would be a different story if the singer knew that he'd gone into the bathroom to purge as soon as they were back at the hotel, but Louis had been watching TV and Harry was quick and quiet, so not a thing was suspected.

Harry knew that he hadn't technically needed to throw up his meal. He'd only eaten about half and it was made with only 'permitted' foods, but the dancer knew that, in a couple of weeks, he would probably lose the motivation to purge at all. Even though Harry did truly hate purging, the thought of not doing it ever again was scary.

Anne sent Harry a text before the show that night asking if he'd spoken to his psychiatrist yet. Harry had told her no, but that he was planning on calling soon. The last part was a lie that he was going to have to get himself out of later, but he didn't have time to think about how he was going to do that right then because he was too busy stressing over his first costume.

It made sense, what with Harry stuffing his face for his family, that the outfit would start to fit him snugly again, but he'd been good the past couple of days with restricting himself from most things and the clothes seemed tighter on him that night than they ever had before.

“This is getting a little big on you again,” the stylist said in contrast to what was going on in Harry's head. “Are you alright, love?”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Harry said. “I'll probably start re-gaining weight again soon. How much do you think I can add on before this is too small?”

“You can probably get away with nearly a stone,” she told him, “but this is the altered size. If you want your original size, then probably nearly a stone-and-a-half.”

“Oh, no,” Harry said quickly. “I don't want you to have to alter it again.”

“It's no problem, love,” the woman said, looking at Harry worriedly. Harry looked away. She continued, “I know that tour life is stressful, but you need to take care of yourself.”

“I'm fine,” Harry said again with a smile, still not looking directly in her eyes.

“I hope so. You're all finished.”

Harry thanked the woman and then, once he had the room all to himself, he closed and locked the door and looked in the mirror.

 _This outfit isn't big at all_ , he realized, cringing at how his hips hung over the sides. _Louis must have told her what's wrong with you and now she's trying to make you feel better, but you're not too small. It doesn't matter how hungry you are; you will never be small enough._

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes and he swallowed against them, but every time, they came right back. Harry had no control over them, or anything else, it seemed, and, defeated, he threw himself on the ground, gasping in pain when his hand hit the nearby chair. It really hadn't hurt all that much, but it was enough to allow the tears to start falling. Of course, because Harry was weak and pathetic; and how did anyone claim to love him or be proud of him?

 _It's the disorder making you feel like this; it's illogical,_ Harry tried to tell himself, but then the same voice in his head was also telling him that he was right. The pill was trying to make him feel better when he had no room to feel good about himself at all.

It wasn't until someone twisted on the handle to the dressing room that Harry got off of the ground.

“Hello?” a familiar voice called. Harry thought it was Zayn. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, hold on,” Harry said, using a tissue to wipe his eyes and attempt to look somewhat normal. 'Somewhat' wasn't good enough, though, because Zayn frowned as soon as Harry opened the door.

“What happened? What's wrong?” he asked immediately. Harry didn't panic. He'd thought of the excuse as soon as he'd heard the knock on the door, and he'd used it before, but not since his school days and so no one would ever know differently.

“Just found out that my pet back home isn't doing so great,” Harry said, and guilt twisted in his gut when he saw Zayn's face morph into sympathy.

“Fuck, I'm sorry, mate.”

“Not your fault,” Harry said with a shrug.

“Want me to get Louis?” Zayn offered.

“No! No, no, no. It's not that important. I-I'm fine. It just came as a shock. Sorry that I was taking up the dressing room.”

Without another word, Harry moved past Zayn and went to the bathroom to wash his face and re-apply the little bit of makeup he wore before his stage face was applied.

 

Even though the dancer got himself under control before showtime, Louis still asked twice if he was alright. Harry assured him that he was and there was really no time for Louis to argue or press the matter.

Onstage, Harry could only hope that the singer didn't look at him because was performing worse than he had in a very long while. His feet didn't seem to want to move when Harry wanted them to and his balance was off. He was so disappointed in himself that he couldn't concentrate much on the actual routine, which of course only made things worse and he felt as if he was moving just slightly out of time with the other dancers, but unable to do anything about it.

No one said anything to him during the wardrobe changes, because these people had already shown themselves to be much too nice, but they didn't have to say anything. Harry knew he was failing; ruining their routine and perhaps even making Louis look like a fool.

“Aw, Harry, it's your song,” Liam commented with a smile as the dancers left the stage to allow Louis to perform his newest creation.

“It's not my song,” Harry disagreed, heading to the bathroom without a backward glance.

He was so disgusted with himself that he didn't even have to force his hands down his throat to get sick that time.

As he exited the stall, he heard the cheers from the audience, signaling that Louis was done singing and that it was time for the dancers to go back onstage, but as Harry washed his hands and rinsed out his mouth, his legs shook and he knew that he just couldn't. This life wasn't meant for him. This life was great; he was doing his dream job, had his dream boyfriend and more friends than he could have ever hoped for (his disorder having chased away most of his other ones), but Harry wasn't meant for greatness. His spot on Louis's tour as well as his spot in Louis's heart belonged to someone else; someone who truly was perfect. Harry had stolen it all from another, and there was only one way he could make it right.

He had to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know; the same P.O.V.s as last time. But my goal is to have another chapter up this weekend. (No promises because I live in a soap opera :p), but I am going to try my hardest!
> 
> Also, the chapters will probably start getting longer so I can get through more at one time now that we're finally at the climax of this novel. Thank you again to everyone who is still reading. I know I've been really bad about updating on time and this fic is going on forever, but the support means more to me than I can let you know :)


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...it's still technically Sunday where I am, so I kind of made my goal? Either way, you should get an extra chapter because I'm still planning on releasing the next one on Tuesday! :)

***Louis***

Louis talked small talk with the audience as he watched the dancers file back onto the stage; waiting for them to take their places and prepare before he started the next song. One by one, each and every one made their way gracefully out; all except one.

Harry.

As each man and woman came out from backstage with no sign of his boyfriend, a bad feeling formed in Louis's gut. His heart rate sped up, taking his breath away a little. He knew he was starting to speak slower and trail off between thoughts, but he didn't much care right then.

Hoping for some kind of comfort, Louis glanced at Liam, who was looking around curiously as well. When he met Louis's eyes, the dancer gave a shrug, worry etched on his face.

“Um...one moment, please,” Louis said into the microphone, and then handed the mic to Zayn as he hurried backstage.

“Uh…,” Zayn stammered. “Hi...I'm Zayn...Um...Louis will be right back...Uh...Fuck, I'm so bad at this. Sorry, I-I didn't mean to say that word. Hey, Liam, how about belting out some Alicia Keys while we wait?”

The audience gave a loud cheer at the suggestion and Louis would have smiled if he wasn't freaking out.

“Louis, what are you doing?!” Beatrice asked as Louis made his way past her.

“Where is Harry?” he called behind himself. The woman was nearly sprinting to keep up.

“I don't know. I'm looking, but you have a show to do! Get back out there!”

“In a minute,” Louis said, walking even more quickly. To his surprise, Beatrice let her steps fall and stopped chasing after him, but the singer was pretty sure she was cursing up a storm. Again, he didn't much care, and couldn't have even if he'd wanted to.

“Harry?!” Louis asked as he entered every single dressing room and toilet that he came across. There was no sign of Harry.

Though Louis knew it was unlikely, he was starting to wonder if someone had kidnapped his boyfriend when he finally found him on the dancer's tour bus. Harry was laying in one of the bunks with his hands over his face, his chest moving sporadically up and down as he openly cried. The panic left Louis then, but something equally as unpleasant took its place.

“Harry, what's wrong?” Louis asked, making the dancer gasp and jump, his head nearly hitting the bunk above him as he sat up. Though he couldn't have been back there long-not much more than five minutes at most-his eyes were as red as if he'd been crying for a half an hour.

“What are you doing here?!” Harry asked instead of answering Louis's question. “You should be onstage!”

“So should you,” Louis pointed out. Harry bit his lip as he shook his head and diverted his eyes to the bed sheet laying across his feet.

“No, I shouldn't,” he said quietly.

“Why do you always say that?” Louis asked, trying not to sigh. “Why do you not believe that you should be here?”

“I'm messing everything up,” Harry said.

“No, you're not,” Louis said, confused and concerned as to what had brought this up in the middle of a show.

“I am!” Harry insisted. Louis could disagree again, but he knew it would do no good, so instead, he sat on the bed and pulled Harry into a hug. Harry wrapped his arms around Louis, burying his face into the singer's shoulder, but said,

“I shouldn't be on tour with you.”

“Do you want to go home?” Louis asked, not for the first time and, like the other times, he wanted to close his ears to the answer.

An answer didn't come though. Harry pulled away from Louis, wiping his eyes, though it was pointless since the tears were still coming, and he said,

“You need to go back onstage.”

Louis knew that he was right, but performing was suddenly the last thing he wanted to do.

“You're not coming?” he asked, embarrassed by how his voice was quivering. Harry needed him to be strong right now. He didn't need to let his own emotions get out of control and hurt Harry more.

“I can't,” Harry said, his voice breaking completely as a sob came from deep in his throat. Louis swallowed.

“Are you going to leave while I'm out there?”

Harry shook his head. Louis didn't believe him one hundred percent, but he knew way too many minutes had passed. Not only was he facing trouble from Beatrice, but from the venue as well, and so he had to hope that Harry was telling the truth.

“I love you,” Louis said after he'd placed a kiss to Harry's lips. Harry didn't say it back, but closed his eyes to the words.

Blinking rapidly against his own tears that wanted to fall, Louis went back onstage, briefly telling Beatrice that Harry was too sick to continue the show.

Niall and Liam were telling the audience jokes when Louis reached the stage again and he made a mental note to buy Niall a huge feast and Liam about five bottles in his choice of alcohol soon because the audience was still present and laughing. They didn't even notice Louis coming back onstage until he was halfway out, but then they screamed and his dancers gave a sigh of relief.

“He's sick,” Louis explained softly to Liam as he rushed forward to hand the microphone back. Liam nodded, but still looked worried as he took his place with the others again.

Even though Louis really just wanted to be back with Harry, he owed his fans the best performance that he could give them, and so he did just that. All things considered, he didn't think he did too bad.

Harry wasn't on his own tour bus after the show, but on Louis's. He was still crying, but he was sitting on the edge of Louis's bed, his eyes wide with what looked like fear.

“Babe, are you okay?” Louis asked, rushing forward to him.

_Dumb question, Louis._

“I'm sorry,” Harry sobbed, his voice deep and thick. He grabbed Louis's shirt with both fists and pulled the singer closer, kissing him feverishly on the lips and then the chin and then his neck, which he bit down on lightly before licking the mild wound. “I'm so sorry.”

“It's okay, love,” Louis said, kissing Harry back and tugging on his hair just as feverishly. He'd been terrified the man had, indeed, fled, and although things weren't alright at all right now, he still felt a little bit of relief upon seeing him there. “I'm just worried about you, babe.”

“It's not okay,” Harry said, kissing Louis's neck again and then burying his face into the crook. “I ruined everything.”

“You didn't.”

Harry sat up, pulling away from Louis just a bit and putting his hands behind him as he gazed at the singer's face, his eyes dark.

“Stop trying to make me feel better,” he said. “If it was anyone else at any other job, they would be fired. Am I fired?”

“Of course not,” Louis said, moving as close to the bed as he could without falling on top of the other, “but does that mean you want to stay?”

Harry nodded once, quickly.

“Are you sure?” Louis asked.

“I want to stay,” Harry affirmed. “I just want to deserve to be here.”

“Baby, you do,” Louis said, wanting to cry again.

“I want to feel like it then,” Harry said.

“I wish you did.”

“Come here,” Harry said, moving to sit on his knees and kiss Louis's lips. Then, he pulled him gently to the bed so that both were laying, Louis on top of Harry, but being careful not to put any weight on him. “I'm sorry I let you down,” Harry said, looking into Louis's eyes.

“You didn't.”

“Damn it, Louis, yes I did!” Harry said, sitting up and forcing Louis off of him yet again. “Why does everyone let me get away with everything?!”

“You're sick, Harry,” Louis said gently. “You can't help it.”

“No, that's the worst thing you can say!” Harry cried, a couple of fresh tears spilling onto his cheeks. Louis felt himself physically fall a bit with how much that hurt internally.

“I'm trying,” he said, his voice sounding very whiny and pathetic, when he hadn't meant it to at all.

“I fucked up and what I did wasn't okay,” Harry continued as if Louis hadn't spoken. “You're disappointed! You're angry!”

“But I'm not,” Louis insisted and, even though he was still hurting, he straightened up again, just long enough to put Harry back into a laying position and straddle him, holding the singer's arms above his head non-forcefully. “I would never lie to you, Harry.”

“I want to be treated like I'm normal,” Harry said, his lip quivering sadly. Though Louis adored his face, he found that he couldn't look at it anymore and dipped his head to kiss the dancer's neck.

“I love you,” he whispered against the skin.

“No,” Harry cried.

“Yes, I do.”

“You shouldn't.”

Nothing about this was funny or amusing in the slightest, but, at that moment, Louis managed to look back at Harry's face and give a small smile. That only caused Harry's frown to grow, his eyebrows pulling together in confusion.

“What are you smiling about?”

“You're stubborn,” Louis commented.

“No, I'm not,” Harry said, and Louis snorted.

“You are, but you should know that I'm stubborn too, and I will win this war you have on yourself.”

“It's not your war to fight.”

“Yeah, well, I have problems minding my own business.”

Harry's face softened, his eyes roaming over Louis's face. With a sigh, he wrapped his arms around Louis's neck, bringing him down a bit so that he could again kiss him.

“I'm so sorry.”

“I know, baby.”

“I love you.”

“I know. Love, you need help.”

“I started taking the anti-depressant.”

“I'm so proud of you for that too, but you also need to talk to someone.”

“I'm talking to you.”

 _Barely_ , Louis replied only in his head. To Harry, he said,

“And I hope you keep talking to me, but it's become pretty clear that I have no idea what I'm doing. Please talk to a professional?”

“Okay,” Harry said after debating on it for a moment. Louis wondered if he'd only agreed to appease him for the moment, but he wasn't going to accuse him of that when he could very well mean it. He would press the matter if the time came, but for the time being, Louis was going to remain cautiously optimistic that Harry was going to follow through.

“Thank you,” Louis said, kissing Harry's lips for the umpteenth time.

“You're so sweaty,” Harry commented, running his hands down Louis's still-wet chest.

“Do I smell?” Louis asked, one corner of his mouth quirked up. Harry shook his head.

“Good,” the singer said, “but I should go shower.”

“Wait,” Harry said. “It would be pointless right now.”

“Why?”

“Because I would just make you all sweaty again,” Harry said, giving a quick, ornery smirk before he began placing kisses from Louis's shoulder to his waistline, moving his body lower the further down he went.

“Harry, we really don't have to,” Louis said, his own body already reacting positively even though he didn't know how when he was so emotionally drained.

“I wouldn't have started it if I didn't want to, would I've?” Harry asked. He placed one more kiss right where he'd unbuttoned Louis's pants before looking up at him. “But do you want to?”

Louis took in Harry's red, splotchy eyes and wanted to say no; not because Harry wasn't still beautiful like that, but because Louis could so feel his pain. But he was afraid that Harry would get the wrong idea if he said no and so Louis got off the bed just long enough to close and lock his door.

***Liam***

_“I love you.”_

The words, echoing with Niall's accent, played over and over in Liam's head all during the day, and still when he lay in the hotel bed, trying to sleep that night. It was keeping him up, though Liam supposed there were worse things he could be losing sleep over than someone claiming that they loved him.

Niall, on the other hand, was fast asleep, tucked snugly into Liam's side with the covers pulled up to his shoulders. He was honestly so perfect, Liam thought; so perfect that he almost didn't want to believe that he truly did love him because that meant that when Niall got fed up and left, then it would be all Liam's fault.

Of course, Niall had said that he wasn't going to leave or make Liam go, but would that change when Liam couldn't ever show his love back?

Though he hadn't felt too terrible that morning, when he should have had one of the worst hangovers of his life, Liam's head was now pounding and he was even starting to feel a little nauseous, so he snaked his way out of bed and went to sit on the patio. Even in the summer, the night air was chilly against Liam's nearly naked body, but for the moment, it felt good.

Liam had grabbed his phone on his way out and he checked his social media as he sat in one of the chairs, sipping on the bottle of water he'd grabbed as well. He had several new followers on Twitter and Instagram and even a slew of Facebook friend requests from people he didn't know. He was confused at first, but quickly discovered them to be fans of Louis, so with the karaoke videos that had been released, it made sense. Liam accepted the friend requests and then put his phone away. Less than a minute later, the door slid open and Niall stepped out.

“Hey,” he said, putting his arms around Liam's neck from behind. His voice was sleepy sounding and Liam hoped he hadn't been the one to wake him, but he smiled because he quite liked his voice like that.

“Hey,” Liam replied. Niall kissed his cheek. With the full moon shining above them, the scene would probably feel romantic if Liam allowed it to.

 _Full moon_. Liam wondered if that had been what made Niall tell him that he loved him; the full moon making him crazy.

“Can't sleep?” Niall asked.

“Mm-mm,” Liam hummed. “Think I need a night cap.”

“No night cap,” Niall said. “It's nearly two in the morning.”

“You won't join me then?”

“Can we go back inside and I give you a massage instead?” Niall asked.

“That actually sounds better,” Liam agreed after thinking on it briefly.

“Well, I am honored,” Niall said, letting go of Liam so that he could stand up. The two went inside and then Niall instructed the other to lay on his stomach on the bed. Liam complied. Niall sat on Liam's back, his warm hands rubbing Liam's shoulders and back muscles strongly, but gently.

“Damn, you're tense,” he said softly. “You're not upset by what we talked about earlier or anything, are you?”

“No, I'm not upset,” Liam said. “I was just wondering if you were having some sort of fit that made you say that stuff, is all.”

“No,” Niall said with a laugh, his hands still working on relaxing Liam. There was nothing erotic about it, really, but when Niall shifted his body weight, Liam had a hard time telling his body that. He did manage to succeed, however.

“Don't stress about it, Li, please,” Niall said. “Nothing has to change.”

The problem was that Liam _wanted_ something to change. He just didn't know if he could change himself to allow that to happen.

Liam didn't say that thought out loud, but it got him lost in his head, and he jumped when he felt a pair of lips on the back of his neck.

“Whoa. Sorry,” Niall said, sitting back up quickly.

“No, it's okay. Sorry,” Liam returned.

“I didn't mean to scare you. Were you falling asleep?”

“No, I was...It's fine.”

Honestly, Liam was a little turned on again, but he knew better than to try anything. A man could only handle so much rejection, even if he was rejected for good reasons.

“Li?”

“Hm?”

“This might be delving into the 'deep' section of conversation again, but it's a serious question, okay?”

“Okay...”

“Are you afraid to let yourself be happy?”

“I am happy,” Liam said, wondering where that question came from. Maybe he wasn't skip- down-the-road-singing-to-blue-birds-underneath-a-bright-rainbow happy like he had been for a few brief seconds when Niall had first told him that he loved him, but he wasn't sad, so that meant he was happy, right?

“I think you believe you're happy,” Niall said after a brief pause.

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing, baby.”

Niall got off of Liam's back, but laid close next to him. Liam turned to the side and accepted a kiss, wondering if 'baby' was going to be a permanent term or if Niall had even meant to say it. He liked it, he decided; quite a bit.

“Do your muscles feel better?” Niall asked.

“Yeah,” Liam said honestly. “I didn't even realize they were sore until they weren't anymore.”

“Good,” Niall said, smiling.

 _You should tell him, Liam_ , the dancer told himself. His heart was pounding and his palms were starting to sweat thinking about it, but Liam wanted to. He really did, so he was frustrated when he opened his mouth and nothing came out.

“I know,” Niall replied to the nothingness, and gave Liam another kiss to help him close his mouth. Liam wondered how Niall always seemed able to read his mind, but he was glad for it, even if he was frustrated with himself. Words shouldn't scare him so much. Liam knew first hand just how powerful they were, as he would swear over and over that it wasn't the beatings that made him hate his father, but the nasty words he'd said to him, but still; everyone in the world had been hurt by words at some point or another and they didn't act like Liam did.

“Stop,” the blonde dancer said then, placing yet another kiss to the other's lips.

“Stop what?” Liam asked, genuinely not having any idea what Niall could be asking him to quit.

“Thinking about whatever it is you're thinking about that made your eyes cloud over.”

Liam didn't know how Niall could tell if his eyes had clouded over or not, given as how it was so dark in the room, but he'd felt the metaphorical cloud start to loom over him, so he was probably right.

Instead of saying anything, because there really was nothing to say, Liam kissed Niall first, and he totally did not mean for his hands to roam over the other man's butt, but they did, and Niall giggled, biting Liam's bottom lip gently.

“Go to sleep,” he said, as if that was fair at all when he had clearly just teased Liam.

“I can't,” Liam said, “Make me tired?” he asked, even though he'd just told himself minutes earlier that trying anything would be pointless.

“Soon,” Niall said, patting Liam's chest before rolling over so that his butt was pretty evenly lined up with Liam's crotch.

“Okay,” Liam sighed dramatically, pulling Niall closer, but keeping a respectful distance. “You're worth waiting for.”

Those words were far from an 'I love you,' but Niall still looked behind him for a second so that Liam could see his smile.

“I L-word you,” he said, and then began humming; eventually lulling Liam to sleep.

 

When Liam woke, Niall was in the shower. Liam really had to pee and thought about going to Zayn's room and using his toilet or something, but then decided to take his chances with their own. He didn't even know why Niall was showering when they both had done so the night before, but to each his own, he supposed.

Liam knocked on the bathroom door first, but Niall apparently couldn't hear over the shower water. When Liam twisted the door handle, it was unlocked, so he pushed the door open slightly and called out,

“Hey, Niall?”

“Yeah?” Niall asked from inside of the shower.

“Sorry. Care if I take a piss real quick?”

“Go for it.”

Thankful, Liam stepped in and closed the door before going to the toilet and doing his business. Niall finished up his shower as Liam was washing his hands. Liam saw his arm snake out from the shower curtain, grab a towel from the rack and pull it inside to dry himself off. Liam decided that he needed to brush his teeth before he left the bathroom.

Before Liam was done, Niall stepped out of the shower with his towel wrapped around his waist, and he gave Liam a bright smile, kissing the side of his neck and getting Liam's face a bit wet from the water still dripping from his hair.

When Liam looked in the mirror after Niall had exited, he saw a smile on his face that almost made him question if it was really himself he was looking at.

“Feel better?” Niall asked, smiling at Liam as he strolled out of the bathroom.

“Mhm,” Liam replied, dipping his head down to kiss Niall. “Oh, and, me too.”

Though Niall hadn't said those three words to Liam since last night, Liam thought the man knew exactly what he meant in that magical way that he did, and his smile all but confirmed that. Liam still wished he could say the actual words, but he accepted that he had gotten as close to it as he could for a while, and he felt lighter. He remembered telling Niall at the karaoke bar that he had been floating on glittery clouds, and even though he was completely sober, it kind of felt like that again.

As Liam already knew, good feelings don't last and his disappeared as soon they entered the tour bus not too much later and he checked his Facebook messages. Most of them were from some of Louis's fans who had added him the previous day, but there was one, right at the top, that read,

 _Thanks for the add, son!_ _Maybe we can meet up soon and catch up? Talk_ _later_ _!_

 _Xxx_ _M_ _um xxx_

***Harry***

“Thank you for agreeing to this meeting, Harry.”

“Yeah, thanks for squeezing me in,” Harry said, and didn't really mean it. He had been hoping that Dr. Parks, his old psychiatrist, would have been too busy to hold a long distance session that day, and then every day after, but here he was; sitting cross-legged on Louis's tour bus bed with his laptop in front of him and the old man staring at him with just the right amount of kindness and concern on his face.

Harry's shame for bailing on half of the show the previous day had never fully gone away, but it had hit him all over again that morning when there were numerous articles released about how he disappeared, causing Louis to go running after him.'

With Harry's permission, Louis had posted a picture of the two of them, taken that morning, to his Twitter, telling everyone that Harry had fallen extremely ill the previous night, but that he was being taken care of and would more than likely be present at the show tomorrow. Harry was grateful for Louis, though he didn't know why anyone else had even cared if he had been onstage or not. Apparently they did, though, because that news had taken over Liam's karaoke video, which only fueled Harry's guilt more.

When Anne found out what happened, she of course didn't believe that Harry's sickness was purely a physical ailment and had all but begged him to contact his doctor for a session. Since he'd hurt enough people the previous night, he agreed, and so that was what he did.

“Did your relapse start before the tour began?” Dr. Parks asked, getting straight to the point, as he tended to do.

“Yes,” Harry said, and he thought it had. Even though it wasn't nearly as advanced as at that time, he could vaguely remember feeling even more off than usual towards the end of the school year. Even if he had been fine, though, Harry would have still answered the question with a yes because he didn't want Parks to tell him that he needed to go home, even though that had been exactly what Harry had been planning on doing the previous night.

“I should be fine soon,” the dancer continued before the doctor could say anything. “I started taking the anti-depressants again. They just haven't kicked in yet.”

“I'm glad you're taking them again, Harry, but while I do believe that they will help, I do not think they will be enough to completely change your way of thinking. If so, you would never have stopped them in the first place.”

“I'm never going to be able think normally,” Harry told the doctor. “They told me that in the hospital.”

“That is true, but with some work, you can learn to fight the obsessions, which will allow you to resist giving into compulsions.”

“Wait, I don't have OCD,” Harry said, frowning in confusion. He'd heard the term multiple times while he was locked away, but never directed at him, and he didn't act anything like those patients who had been diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder.

“Eating disorders are very OCD-based,” Dr. Parks explained patiently. “Even if you do not meet the criteria to be diagnosed with the disorder, your brain reacts to food and your own body much the same way someone with OCD reacts to germs, locks, plugs et cetera. That is why we do behavioral therapy more than any other for eating disorders.”

Harry rubbed his head. Although it didn't ache, it still felt heavy.

“I just want to be done with this shit,” Harry sighed.

“That is good!” Parks said, looking borderline excited. “You will find that therapy is a lot easier and much more effective when you want to change.”

“I don't want my body to change, though,” Harry made sure to say. _Unless it gets smaller._

“You told me before that you were overweight as a child?” Parks asked. Though the question seemed random, Harry knew it wasn't, even if he couldn't figure out where it was leading. When he'd first started therapy sessions, he had tried to analyze what was being asked of him just as much as the professionals analyzed what he was saying, but he was usually unsuccessful and had been called out on it, so he'd stopped doing that, for the most part.

“I wasn't really overweight,” Harry said. “I just had baby fat.”

Stereotypically, Parks took off his glasses as he raised an eyebrow, leaning towards his laptop more.

“That wasn't what you told me before,” he stated. “Why have you changed your mind?”

“I don't know,” Harry said, feeling mildly awkward, but that was nothing new either. “I was just a kid. It wasn't fair of me to think of myself like that then. I didn't know better.”

“It isn't fair of you to think of yourself that way now,” the older man said. “Even if you were overweight, that isn't all you would be and certainly that wouldn't be your main quality. Neither is your current weight. Now, I must ask, Harry; what do you mean by you 'didn't know better?'”

“I didn't know that dancers weren't supposed to eat like I ate and look how I looked.”

Harry didn't know what Dr. Parks had wanted him to say, but that certainly wasn't it, and he could see disappointment overcome the intrigue that had been on his face. Parks always started with a poker face, but he wasn't very good at keeping it up. Harry didn't fault him for it. He was only human.

“Your career requires you to be healthy, Harry,” the older man said. The words had barely left his mouth before Harry heard something drop and break on the other side of the door.

“How much longer is this session going on for?” the dancer asked after getting distracted for a few seconds.

“We only have a few more minutes,” Parks said. “Before we go, Harry; when was the last time you ate?”

“I ate some celery last night,” Harry said nonchalantly, and he had, once he'd worn Louis out and the singer fell asleep before even taking his shower or arriving at their hotel.

“When we're done here, I want you to go and eat a healthy lunch; something like a vegetable wrap with dressing or eggs with toast. Alright?”

“Yeah, okay,” Harry said. He had expected the doctor to instruct as much, but he wasn't stressing over it. There was no way he would know if he obeyed or not.

“I want to talk to you again tomorrow,” Parks told the dancer, who held in his groan.

“Okay,” he said. He had little faith these sessions would do anything, but maybe if he went through the motions, Louis and his family would feel better.

“Is there anything else you want to say or ask before we disconnect?” the psychiatrist questioned.

“No. I feel better now. Thanks,” Harry said. Dr. Parks didn't even try to hide the fact that he stared down the bridge of his nose with a disbelieving look on his face, but with a smile, Harry told the old man that he would talk to him tomorrow and closed his laptop.

“Everything okay?” the dancer asked his boyfriend as he exited the room. Louis was sitting on the couch, drinking a cup of juice and watching something on the TV.

“Yeah, everything's fine,” Louis said. “I dropped a glass; surprise, surprise.”

Harry smiled and sat next to Louis just long enough to kiss him. He lingered close for a moment once their lips were apart and he could feel the singer smiling. No matter what, Harry would always believe Louis to be the best thing to ever happen to him.

“How did the session go?” Louis asked once Harry stood again and began slowly making his way to the refrigerator.

“Good,” Harry said. “I have to eat something.”

Opening the appliance, Harry only studied its contents for a brief moment before pulling out more celery.

“Is that enough?” Louis asked hesitantly when Harry turned back around and took a bite.

“It's something,” Harry said, and he hadn't meant for it to make Louis feel bad, but the man's shoulders noticeably drooped.

“Right. Sorry,” he said.

“Didn't mean to make you feel bad,” Harry said gently and then, because the fact of the matter was that he _had_ made Louis feel bad and now he needed to fix it, he pulled some peanut butter from a top cabinet and covered a couple of the sticks with it. That seemed to work because Louis smiled and made his way to stand next to Harry, both of their backs against the counter.

“Zayn called to check on you for himself and the other boys. I told them you were feeling a bit better, but I don't know if that's true or not, so I'm sorry.”

“It's okay,” Harry assured him. “Last night was...I don't know what last night was, but I'm sorry.”

“You don't need to keep apologizing.”

“Is Beatrice mad? At either of us, that is.”

“No. She was mad at me, but she got over it, and she's just worried about you.”

“I don't like when people worry about me.”

“Well then stop being so lovable,” Louis said, and winked. Harry placed his celery stick with peanut butter onto the paper towel with the untouched food so that he could pull Louis against him.

“I love you,” Harry said, and kissed him.

“I love you,” Louis replied, smiling up at the other. Harry's heart gave a happy flutter and he quickly diverted his eyes, clearing his throat.

“Dean and my label want me to record 'Perfectly Perfect' and release it as a single,” Louis said then. “If you want to, I would love if you came to the studio with me. It would help to have my inspiration there.”

“Okay,” Harry said, being sure to smile at Louis even though he no longer believed that he was the true inspiration for that song. How could he have inspired something so beautiful?

 _You need to leave_ , that voice from last night spoke up, but Harry pushed it down quickly. Maybe it was selfish, and maybe he was living the life that was meant for someone else, but Harry figured he would pay for it someday. Right now, Louis seemed happy with him, and Harry needed to stay; positive that a ticket out of there would also be a ticket back to the hospital, or worse.

 


	32. Chapter 32

***Liam***

“What should I do?! Should I delete her?! Should I reply?! Should I just pretend I didn't see it?!”

“Well, Facebook tells you when someone reads your message, so you can't pretend you didn't see it,” Zayn said. Liam groaned and Niall slugged Zayn lightly on the shoulder.

“What?” the dark haired dancer asked. “It's true. With how you are right now, though, Li, I don't think you should reply.”

Liam sighed. He didn't like that answer, but then again, he wouldn't have liked if Zayn had told him to message his mother back either.

Though he had tried to keep his current stressor from the other two, it quickly became obvious that something wasn't right, and when Niall asked what was wrong, Liam couldn't lie to him. The panic that Liam had been fighting off took over him when he voiced his problem out loud, and now he was pacing around the tour bus, thinking sporadically and out loud while his two friends watched him worriedly. Because of that, Liam found that he couldn't look at them.

“How did I not notice that I was adding her?” Liam continued.

“That makes me think that you don't want to be her friend, so just delete her,” Niall said, making that sound like it would be an easy thing to do.

“But that would be rude,” Liam retorted.

“I don't think you should care about being rude to your mother.”

“Yeah,” Zayn agreed. “I don't know what happened with her, but if she's causing you this much stress, then you don't need her.”

“What if she needs me?”

Wordlessly, Niall got to his feet and walked over to Liam, grabbing his shoulders lightly to stop him from moving, and then leaning up to kiss him.

“Maybe make your decision over what to do when you're a bit calmer, yeah?” he suggested lightly afterward.

“Yeah,” Zayn said again. “That sounds like the best idea. Hey, want a drink?”

“No,” Liam groaned, feeling sick at the thought of alcohol for some reason. Zayn gasped, clutching a hand to his chest.

“Niall, something is seriously wrong with your man. I really am worried now.”

The blonde glared at Zayn for a couple of seconds, but quickly turned back to Liam, rubbing his shoulders soothingly.

“Put your phone away for a bit?” he asked, and with a nod, Liam locked the device and put it in Niall's back pocket so he could less easily get it back out and stare at that message as if he could urge it to disappear both from the phone and his memory.

“It's going to be okay,” Niall assured him, moving his arms around Liam's waist. Liam rested his hands on the small of the other dancer's back and gave another sigh.

“I know,” Liam said, and it probably would be even if it didn't feel like it.

Why couldn't she have just stayed away? He already had the only person in the world that he needed, and she hadn't seemed to need him too much when she let him get kicked to the streets.

 

With Niall holding his phone hostage, Liam didn't forget about the message, but it became a lot easier to pretend it didn't exist, which allowed Liam to calm down after a bit of video gaming with the guys. Soon, though, another thought burned into his mind; he'd heard from his biological mother more recently than his aunt and uncle who had acted more like his parents throughout his whole life; not only when they'd officially taken him in. It wasn't that it had been a long time since they'd talked. Liam thought it was three, maybe four, days ago, but he became unsettled again and excused himself to go and make the call.

“Hi, sweetie!” Karen answered, sounding gleeful. “I was hoping to hear from you.”

“Hey, Karen,” Liam greeted.

“What's wrong?” the woman asked immediately. Apparently, Liam surrounded himself with mind readers.

“Um, well...I got a message today.”

“What kind of message?”

“On Facebook, from my mum.”

Karen was silent for a good few moments. Liam was about to check their connection with the woman spoke again, her voice cold.

“What did that bitch want?” she asked.

“Karen!” Liam exclaimed with a laugh. His aunt had to be genuinely angry to use curse words, so he probably shouldn't have found it so funny, but he couldn't help it.

“Did you tell her to shove whatever she had to say up her drunken arse?”

“No,” Liam said with another small giggle. Leave it to this woman to make him feel better, even if she wasn't actively trying to. “I haven't replied to her yet.”

“What did she say?”

“Just that she wants to meet up soon.”

“You don't need to reply to her at all, I hope you know. Unless you want to...”

“I don't know,” Liam said. “So none of you have heard from her then?”

Karen paused, but that was all Liam needed.

“You have!” he exclaimed, not sure if he should feel betrayed that they hadn't told him.

“She contacted Geoff last week and said that she heard about you touring with Louis T. She wanted your number to congratulate you, but he didn't give it to her, of course.”

“Is she still with my dad?” Liam asked.

“I think so. She was whispering, like she didn't want it to be heard that she was on the phone.”

“Oh,” Liam said, and he wasn't sure why he felt disappointed when he hadn't expected anything else.

“Sweetheart, I really don't think that woman is contacting you for the right reasons,” Karen went on. “I would never tell you what to do or what not to do, but if you wanted my opinion, I would tell you to not message her back. I suggest deleting her, blocking her...whatever, to make sure she doesn't do so again. But, of course, this is your decision and I'll love and support you no matter what you choose to do.”

“Okay,” Liam said. The bit of relief he'd gotten from his anxiety was gone and suddenly he was right back to where he started in his decision-making process.

“I'm sorry, sweetie,” Karen said in her sweet, motherly voice.

“Why couldn't I have just been born to you?” Liam mumbled.

“I wish you were,” Karen told him. When Liam remained silent, the woman changed the subject, her voice cheerier as she spoke again.

“So any other news?” she asked. “Maybe something more positive? How are things going with that boy you think is cute?”

“Karen,” Liam groaned, his face heating up even though Niall wasn't around.

“What?” she asked. “I haven't heard anything since you two went on your first date and I don't like to press these matters, but the suspense is killing me, child.”

“It wasn't a date,” Liam told her. “We're still hanging out though.”

 _And he told me he loved me,_ Liam could have also said, but that would lead to a whole lot of other things that he didn't want to talk about.

“That's exciting,” his aunt said.

“I guess.”

“So you're doing okay, Liam? Besides, you know...all of that.”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Liam assured her. All in all, he was probably doing better than she'd seen him in a while. “How is everybody there?”

“We're all fine too. Actually, we will be seeing you soon.”

“Really?!”

“Yes. Apparently, Louis T. had his manager contact everyone's families who hadn't been to a show yet to discuss making plans for them to attend any performance of their choice.”

Liam smiled to himself. Louis really didn't get enough credit for being a genuinely good person, he thought.

“That's great,” Liam said, “but how did he get your number and everything?”

“You listed us as your emergency contact, is what I'm told.”

“Oh, yeah,” Liam said. “I did.”

“I must say, it was quite alarming when I got a phone call from an unknown number and the first thing I hear is, 'This is Louis T.'s manager and you are listed as Liam Payne's emergency contact number; do you have a minute?'”

Again, Liam gave a small laugh.

“Don't worry. I haven't gotten myself hospitalized or killed yet.”

Karen gasped.

“Liam, don't you dare talk like that.”

“Sorry,” Liam apologized sincerely, though he was still smiling. “What show are you all coming to?”

“I'm not sure yet. Your father and the girls have to look into getting off work and such, but soon; one of the United States ones.”

“Good.”

“We miss you, Liam,” Karen said. “It's not the same without your monthly visits.”

“Maybe we can start monthly Facetime sessions?” Liam suggested.

“I would like that,” Karen replied, and Liam would swear she was smiling. Then, she couldn't resist in adding, “Maybe we can see that cute boy, too.”

“Karen,” Liam groaned, and the woman laughed.

“We love you,” she said.

“I love you all too. I'm going to go, but I'll see you soon, okay?”

 

After hanging up with his aunt, Liam went back to return his phone to Niall and continue playing video games with the others. Niall kissed his cheek as he sat on the couch next to him and Liam smiled, but declined the controller when he tried to hand it to him.

“I'll jump in next round,” he said. “Hold on, can I have my phone back?”

Niall shot a worried look to him-and his character got injured in the process-but he didn't say a word as he handed the mobile over.

“Thanks,” Liam said, unlocking the device and clicking on his messenger app. For the millionth time that day, he read those few short sentences from his mom; the only thing he'd heard from her since he was fifteen. He didn't reply, but clicked on the woman's icon.

Her page was filled with pictures of her meals and posts of alcohol recipes and, feeling unexplainable disappointment, Liam stopped scrolling through her page and went to look at her photos instead. Something strange filled his chest, but he didn't think about it as he went from picture to picture, studying the face that he should have known almost as well as his own, but the woman smiling back at him almost looked like a stranger. It wasn't because she'd aged some over the past years. Liam honestly didn't know what it was, but it made him uncomfortable, and so he closed his phone again, placing it in Niall's lap before leaning against his shoulder and watching the video game playing out on the screen.

***Harry***

Harry was getting really tired of everyone asking if he was feeling better, mainly because he was getting tired of faking a smile and lying about being 'much better, thank you.' He had no right to feel that way because he was sure that some of them actually cared about his answer and were not just asking as a formality.

Just like the night of the last show, Harry wanted to cry as he put on his first outfit. Somehow, he'd forgotten how tight it was, though he didn't know how that could be possible when that was what had started his break down in the first place.

Luckily, that night's show was the last one for just over a week, so he had time to trim up and hopefully practice their routine some more before humiliating himself anymore.

“Alright, let's look at you.”

Harry hugged himself self-consciously as the stylist stepped back and looked him up and down, her expression not exactly happy.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing, sweetheart,” she assured him, giving a smile that didn't quite match her eyes as she stepped forward and patted Harry's bun further into place. “You're so gorgeous,” she commented then. “I've been with Louis for a while, Harry, and I must say that I'm glad that he has you now.”

“I'm the lucky one,” Harry said, wondering why she would be saying those things.

“You're both pretty lucky, I think,” she retorted. As he was meant to do, Harry simply smiled and thanked the woman, resisting rolling his eyes the whole while.

 

Harry ate just enough that night to get through the show and maybe do a decent job as well. He was doing better than the other night, but he still wasn't performing great. A big part of him wanted to go back to that tour bus and cry the show away again, but he didn't.

“You're doing great, baby,” Louis told Harry during the single time they were backstage together throughout the whole show, and he gave him a quick kiss before hurrying off to change his wardrobe. That should have comforted Harry, but he knew Louis was just saying what any good boyfriend would say. Still, the attempt made Harry want to go back to the bus again, but to take Louis with him and make love to him.

Making love to Louis was the only way Harry seemed able to get out of his mind even a little bit. He'd relaxed a lot around the other man; not because he was comfortable with Louis seeing his body but because he'd already seen it and Harry figured at this point it wouldn't make him run any faster than he already would. Harry kept his shirt on half of the time, but he didn't stress so much if it got rolled up like it tended to do, and he didn't flinch away the other night when Louis had left a trail of kisses from his chest to his stomach.

“Sorry,” Louis had said afterward. “I know you don't like to be touched there, but every part of you deserves love and I do love every part of you.”

 

Once the final curtain closed and the screams from the audience were still very audible, Louis pulled Harry into a tight hug, which Harry returned.

“You did it,” Louis said, “and now we have a break, where it can be just me and you for a while.”

Harry didn't say so, but relief flooded through him so much that he nearly got light-headed at those words.

 

“How was the show last night?” Dr. Parks asked first thing during Harry's session the next morning. It was to be a short session, as Harry and Louis had to be at the airport before too long, but Harry was thankful.

“Well, I didn't run off stage and have a breakdown,” Harry said with a shrug, popping a piece of gum into his mouth. The doctor studied him.

“I'm proud of you,” he said belatedly. “Have you eaten today yet, Harry?”

“Not today,” Harry said. “I ate yesterday though.”

“What exactly did you eat?”

“Some celery with peanut butter, rice with chicken and then chicken noodle soup with half a roll.”

Harry thought that the old man would be happy that he'd eaten bread, but he didn't comment on that. Instead, all he said was,

“You need more than that, Harry.”

“Do we have to do this today?” Harry asked, suddenly angry. He wasn't sure that was a valid emotion to feel at the moment, but Harry had long ago tried to find reasoning behind his bursts of anger. He hid them well anyway, he thought.

“What's wrong?” Dr. Parks asked. “I can see on your face that something deeper than usual is going on.”

“It's not that deep, doctor,” Harry said. “I'm just tired.”

It wasn't a complete lie because he _was_ tired too; exhausted, actually, despite the fact that he'd slept well last night.

“Has your pill seemed to start helping you at all?” the psychiatrist continued.

“Not really.”

“We're going to give that one more week and if nothing changes, I'm going to put you on something else.”

Harry agreed, but privately wasn't sure that would do any good. The pill had worked fine before, so maybe he was just worse now. Maybe nothing could honestly help him this time.

“I'm also going to e-mail you a food schedule and menu much like the one you used at the center,” Parks continued.

“I'm on tour,” Harry reminded him. “It's not as easy to live on a strict meal plan.”

“I know that, but it sounds like you have a support system that will work around your needs there anyway. You do have a support system, yes?”

“Yeah, of course,” Harry said, offended that the doctor would even think Louis was anything but supportive and amazing. “Go ahead and send me the plan. Thanks.”

Truthfully, Harry had no intentions of following the plan. Louis didn't stock his own tour bus and he wasn't putting the burden of buying special things for him on anyone else. He wouldn't have put it on Louis either, but he especially wasn't going to let someone portion off specific amounts of fruits, vegetables, snacks and protein for him like his mother had for six months after he'd returned home.

 

“How was the session?” Louis asked after Harry had gone into the living area of the suite once ending the conversation with Dr. Parks.

“Mm,” Harry hummed as a means of response.

“I'm guessing not great then,” Louis said, taking Harry's hand and gently pulling him down onto his lap.

“I'm just tired,” Harry explained.

“Anything you want to talk about?” Louis asked. Harry shook his head.

“I'm going to squish you,” the dancer said, getting to his feet. Louis pulled lightly on his hand again, trying to get him to sit back down, but Harry pulled away.

“You weren't…,” Louis said, his shoulders doing that thing where they drooped. Harry pretended that he didn't see it; he had to.

“I'm going to the bathroom,” he stated, and then turned on his heel, hurrying off to the toilet. Harry didn't actually have to go-he hadn't had to go in an unhealthy amount of time, actually-but he'd needed a spot to privately let out a few of the tears that had quickly popped up in his eyes.

Harry didn't cry long or hard, and once he was done, he was happy to find that it didn't even look like he'd done so at all. Still, he knew he had broken down yet again, and he felt weak. Then, his stomach growled, which gave him back a bit of a sense of strength. He might have absolutely no control over his emotions, but this-the hunger-he could fight off.

***Louis***

The United States leg of Louis's tour was next, and though his first concert was in New York, Louis went back to California for a couple of days. His other option had been going to his mom's in England, which was tempting, or joining most of the crew in New York for a mini-vacation, but in the end, his own place in the city of angels won. Louis was a social guy, and, if he had to admit it, a little bit of an attention whore, but sometimes, he just needed a day or two to himself.

Well, a day or two with just himself and Harry.

Louis began to wonder on their first full day in California if some down time was what Harry had needed as well, because he was a lot more relaxed than Louis had seen him in a while. He still barely touched his food, but he walked a lot straighter; not like he was overly burdened. Louis had to wonder for the hundredth time if Harry's recent turmoil was his fault.

“You've been quiet today,” Harry noted later that evening, after dinner, as the two laid in Louis's bed and watched a movie on his flat screen.

“No, I haven't,” Louis disagreed. “I'm just watching the film right now.”

“You've barely looked at the screen.”

“Not true.”

“What did the dad just say to the daughter then?”

“The blonde daughter or brunette?”

“Brunette.”

“Uh...well, I didn't quite catch that, but I've been watching.”

“Louis, the dad died, like, fifteen minutes ago.”

“Oh, shit, really?”

Harry giggled, leaning forward to kiss the tip of Louis's nose.

“Yes, really. Now what's wrong?”

“Nothing's wrong. I was just thinking.”

“Anything you would like to share?”

“I like being here with you,” Louis said, because there had been a lot on his mind, but that was the basis of it all.

“I like being here with you too,” Harry replied, giving one of his genuine, rare smiles.

“I wish we could have met and fallen in love before the tour,” the singer told him. For some reason, that took the smile right off the dancer's face.

“Why?”

“I would have had more time to just lay here with you,” Louis sighed dreamily. Again, Harry smiled, though it was a little less genuine that time, and he moved to kiss Louis's lips.

“What do you plan on doing once the tour is over?” Louis asked. Even though it was far away, he couldn't help but to think of the ways things could change, both for the better and worse, once it was through.

“I don't know. I hadn't thought about it much yet,” Harry said, his face becoming stressed again. Louis felt guilty all over again for putting this man through an emotional roller coaster. Why hadn't he learned by now to just keep his thoughts to himself?

“Well,” Louis began, hurrying to try and make things better, “I would never ask you to move away from your family, but that dresser and bathroom drawer is yours if you want it. I suppose I could empty a couple more and split my closet as well, just for you.”

“Slow down, super star,” Harry said, tapping Louis's foot with his own. “There's still plenty of time for you to get bored of me.”

“That will never happen,” Louis replied, and he wasn't just saying that. He knew it to be true. “I'm more worried about you getting tired of me.”

“Are you kidding? You're my dream boyfriend, remember? I had posters of you on my wall and everything.”

“Yeah, but sometimes fantasies are better than reality.”

“Not this time,” Harry said, and kissed Louis yet again. “I'm sorry that I made you think I was just going to leave the other night. Truthfully, I couldn't leave you and I wouldn't want to. I'm not a typical guy that can't commit and is always looking for something better. I have the best right in front of me.”

Harry's 'typical guy' statement was referencing one of Louis's earliest songs. Admittedly, it wasn't his best song by any means, but he had written it from the heart during his 'angst' stage when he hated everything about his own gender and took every opportunity to bash every single member of it. Recently, Louis had done his best to kill that song from everyone's memory, but he smiled at it then, or maybe he smiled at the last line, which Harry had added all on his own.

“If you're okay with it, I want to go to the studio tomorrow,” Louis said. “I want to record your song.”

The corners of Harry's mouth twitched up, but before he could say anything, a loud explosion on the television made them both jump. That seemed like a good transition away from their conversation, so both giggled at themselves and then scooted closer to each other, turning their attention back to the TV. Louis thought he was doing a convincing job of paying attention that time.

***Niall***

Instead of going back home for a couple of days before the next show, like originally planned, Niall decided last minute to go to New York with Liam. The other dancer had already been planning on going and had assured Niall that he would be fine by himself, but Niall was discomforted by the thought of him walking the busy city streets alone (and yes, he knew that Liam was a grown man, but still), and besides, he wanted to spend the time with Liam anyway.

It was quite adorable how excited Liam was on the plane to the big city. He was bouncing in his seat and looking out the plane window every minute or so before checking the electronic map on the back of the seats that showed how close to their destination they were. Niall slept for most of the trip, but he was honestly not sure if Liam managed any himself. No one would be able to tell, though, because he bounced off the plane like he was on a sugar high which, come to think about it, he may have been.

On the way to their hotel, Liam saw a man on a street corner making balloon animals. They weren't able to stop, but Niall promised to get him one later.

“Holy shit,” Liam breathed when he opened the door to their room after arriving at their destination. “I think Louis booked us in the honeymoon suite.”

“I think so,” Niall said, and he also didn't believe that it was an accident.

“We are so getting in that hot tub later,” Liam commented, eyeing it with lust in his eyes.

“Sounds good,” the blonde said.

After a couple more moments of staring at the hot tub, Liam continued to look around the room. Niall didn't miss the way he was completely ignoring the bottle of champagne on the bed.

“Okay, so we have to get pizza tonight,” Liam decided out of nowhere, sitting on edge of the bed but looking no less energized. Niall joined him.

“That's fine, but is there any certain reason?” he asked.

“New York pizza is supposed to be good, isn't it?” Liam returned.

“I thought that was Chicago?”

“Oh...maybe. Maybe it's both?”

“I don't know,” Niall said with a shrug. “We can get it both places and compare them.”

“I like that idea.”

 

Since Liam insisted that he wasn't at all tired and Niall had rested up all he could on the plane, the two washed up and then went out to explore the city. Liam was looking around like a kid in a candy shop, and Niall couldn't stop smiling watching him, at least until he turned and Liam was gone; lost in a sea of bodies.

“Liam?!” he called, making his way right through the middle of the crowd (and getting a few disgusted looks) as he searched. “Li?!”

Niall was just about to pull out his phone and call the other man when he felt a tap on the shoulder.

“Marco,” an English accent said, and Niall whipped around, smiling in relief when he saw his love's face.

“Polo,” Niall said, grabbing Liam's hand as he led him further up the sidewalk and away from a majority of the people. Once he deemed it safe, he made to let go of the other's hand, but Liam took it upon himself to intertwine their fingers in a much more comfortable way instead, and Niall wasn't complaining.

Niall and Liam were probably being judged hard for being text book tourists, but they didn't care. They stopped at every well-known landmark, taking pictures of their surroundings as well as of themselves. Niall immediately changed his phone background to the one that the men took of themselves in front of the Statue of Liberty. Niall was taking the picture and Liam had his arms around his middle as they both smiled up at the camera. If by some miracle, they were ever married, Niall wanted that picture displayed somewhere.

“I love New York!” Liam sang after they passed a man break dancing in the park. That changed only a few minutes later when Liam got a pretzel from a nearby kart and was subsequently attacked by a pigeon.

“I hate New York!” he exclaimed, flapping his arms around and probably making things worse. Niall totally did not record it or anything, of course.

Since most of Liam's pretzel was sadly lost to a bird, the two didn't wait too much longer before going to get pizza.

While they waited, the men talked about their favorite moments from the tour so far and discussed things that they wanted to do in the places they still had yet to visit. Niall knew that, despite the things they'd recently shared with each other, he and Liam still weren't boyfriends, but he still found it pretty amazing that they could continue to fall more and more in love all over the world.

“What's the verdict?” Niall asked the other once their food finally came out and Liam took his first bite. The man frowned while chewing, deep in concentration, and then took another bite to affirm his ratings.

“A-plus on size because this thing is huge...B-minus on its ability to stay together because I'm pretty sure half of my cheese just fell off...A on taste...C-plus on excitement...Over all, it gets a B flat.”

“Hm...not terrible,” Niall said, taking his first bite before nodding in agreement. “B flat definitely.”

Even if the pizza could be better, it was late and the two were hungry, so they were pretty quiet while devouring their food.

“Are we going back to the hotel after this?” Niall asked when they started to slow down.

“Probably, unless there's something else you want to do,” Liam said.

“The hotel is fine,” Niall said. “Would you like a box for your lackluster pizza?”

“Nah. I rated it a B flat, but that was me being generous.”

“That's disappointing,” Niall said. He hadn't thought the food was that bad, but he was pretty easy to please when it came to food.

“I'm used to disappointment,” Liam said, and though Niall thought he was joking, he knew the words were true too.

“No!” he exclaimed a bit too loudly as he smacked the table top. “I will not have this!”

Liam giggled, scratching his nose as he shot a quick, uncaring glance to the nearby couple who had looked over at the outburst.

“We're getting dessert,” Niall decided. “What would you like?”

“Um…,” Liam stalled, picking the menu up from the table, but Niall was quick to stop him.

“Not from here,” he said. “This place was already enough of a let down.”

Liam's eyes were scrunched up and his nose crinkled from how wide he was smiling. Niall wondered if it would be weird for him to take a photo right then and decided that it would be.

“What sounds good to you?” Liam asked.

“Anything.”

“Cheese cake?”

“Cheese cake it is.”

Determined, Niall stood from the table and walked out without a backward glance. He was confused at first, once he did turn around, as to why Liam didn't follow him, and it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize that paying the bill was probably something that they had to do.

Deciding to feel no shame, as he'd just been determined to get his man a good cheese cake, damn it, Niall re-entered the parlor and almost ran into Liam, who was on his way out.

“I guess we had a bill, didn't we?” Niall asked as Liam simply spun him right back around and held onto his shoulders as Niall led them out.

“It's taken care of, don't worry.”

“Sorry, I didn't mean to make you foot that.”

“Sure,” Liam teased, smiling when Niall stopped outside the restaurant and turned to face him.

“Dessert is on me then.”

“Fine.”

 

Luckily, it wasn't hard to find a restaurant that served cheese cake, and the inside of it looked much better than the pizza place had, so Niall remained hopeful.

“Order carefully,” he instructed the other as he looked over the several options. “A disappointing pizza is one thing, but a disappointing cheese cake is like…is like Christmas was canceled or something.”

“The pressure is on,” Liam said, grinning as he looked over the menu for the third time. “I don't know!”

“Pick the two that sound the best and we'll share,” Niall decided. Liam nodded and ran a few suggestions by Niall before they finally decided on a couple.

“Are you ready for this?” the Irishman asked when the dessert was brought to the table.

“I don't know,” Liam said. “You take the first bite.”

“I'll take the first bite of the chocolate and you take the first bite of the blueberry.”

“Deal.”

On the count of three, the pair stuck a forkful of cheese cake into their mouth. Niall felt his eyes widen in delight and saw Liam's do the same.

“A-plus,” Niall said. Liam nodded in agreement.

“I want to try the chocolate,” he said, so after counting to three again, they tasted the other dessert.

“A plus-plus,” Liam said. “This definitely makes up for the pizza.”

“We're coming back here before we leave,” Niall decided.

“Mhm,” Liam agreed, his mouth already full with another bite of chocolate cheese cake.

 

Even though Niall could tell that Liam was growing sleepier by the minute, the other man announced that they had to get into the hot tub as soon as they got back to the hotel, and so they did.

“I guess I should break open the bottle of champagne, huh?” Liam asked before he got in. Niall was already relaxing in the hot water.

“If you want,” he allowed. Liam hesitated, then grabbed the bottle, popping the cork and pouring each of them a glass. Niall thanked him as Liam handed him his drink and then got in with his own. They were both silent as they sipped their drinks, but that wasn't for long because Liam stopped when his glass was still half full, setting his cup on the floor behind him. Niall's was nearly gone, so he finished it off and then did the same.

With a yawn, Liam rested his head against Niall's shoulder.

“The jet lag is hitting me,” he announced.

“I could kind of tell,” Niall said, resting his own head on top of Liam's.

“I don't want to go to bed yet though,” the other dancer said.

“Why not?”

“I'm having fun.”

“We can have fun when you're not about to pass out in a hot tub tomorrow.”

“Hm…,” Liam hummed, and then yawned again. “Okay.”

Niall lifted his head so that Liam could lift himself out.

“Hey, Niall?” he asked as Niall stretched and prepared to join him.

“Yeah?”

“You make me happy,” Liam said, “and not just in a way that I think I'm happy, but in a way that I can actually feel it.”

Niall didn't know what to say in return, but his huge smile was apparently enough because Liam returned it and then sauntered off to change. Niall stared for much too long at the closed bathroom door, replaying what Liam had just told him in his head and wishing that he could rewind time just so that he could hear it in person again. If his life were a book, Niall decided that those were the lines he wanted it to end on.


	33. Chapter 33

***Harry***

 _“_ _Just eat it! I don't understand what is so hard about it!”_

_“Dad, get off of him!” Gemma screamed, and Harry could see her hitting their dad's back with her fists, tears pouring down her face, but the older man acted as if he couldn't hear or feel a thing. He also was paying no attention to his wife crying in the corner. He was too focused on their son, whom he was straddling on the kitchen floor, his arm pressed against the boy's chest hard enough to where he could only barely move his head. In the man's free hand was a dinner roll, which he was attempting to force into Harry's mouth. Sometimes he succeeded, but the bread would be spat right back out at him, fueling his anger and the girls' tears._

_“I'm not eating!” Harry choked out, attempting to free his arm and knock the food from his dad's hands, but he was unsuccessful. “Get off of me!”_

_“Get off of him!” Gemma repeated. “Please, dad, you're breaking him!”_

_Harry found that last sentence odd. He was frightened, being pinned down as he was, but only for the fact that he worried he would end up having to eat the roll after all. The man wasn't actually hurting him. If anything, his mother and sister were the ones who sounded broken._

 

Flashbacks of that moment came to Harry often. Without a doubt, it was one of the most painful memories he had that revolved around his disorder, but that was the one that could sometimes help him stay on track when it came to his recovery. A lot of the time, his family tried to remain strong, but that was the first time he'd seen all of them really come apart. Hearing his mother and sister cry so openly had been painful, but what had been even worse was the look in his father's eyes. He'd looked as terrified as an animal cornered by its predator. He wasn't angry, as his words and actions were suggesting. He had been too frightened to think normally; having to try and save his son's life with the only tactic he hadn't used yet since his other efforts had failed.

With that memory replaying in his mind, Harry let out a sigh. He took his fingers out of his mouth, got up from his knees, closed the toilet lid and got into the shower. At least he hadn't really eaten that much for dinner, he rationalized with himself. One taco wasn't bad, even if it wasn't on his self-created list of approved foods. He didn't believe himself, of course, but then he thought about how, on that night that wasn't too far in the past, he'd been able to hear his parents and sister crying hours after Des had finally given up, and how the next day, Harry had been told that he was being taken to hospital.

Harry wouldn't be able to stand getting busted by Louis, making him cry and then being sent away by him. So, for the night, he had to be good.

 

The next morning, Harry woke up to the smell of food cooking. After trying and failing to go back to sleep, he thought about feigning it long enough to get away with skipping breakfast, but he knew that Louis wanted to go to the studio that day and he didn't want to delay him, so he forced himself downstairs.

“'Morning,” Louis greeted with a small smile as he placed the omelets on two separate plates. “Are you going to eat something? I made you an omelet, if you want it.”

Louis was choosing his words carefully, and Harry appreciated the amount of effort he was putting into making sure that he felt normal, but he hated that it was necessary.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Harry lied. He sat in the seat he usually took during meal times as Louis set his plate down for him.

“Tea?” the singer asked.

“Sure, thanks.”

The pair ate in near silence, which was mildly unnerving to Harry. It made him feel as if Louis was observing him and made it that much harder to hide half of his omelet in his napkin. He tried to start up conversation himself, and Louis would respond, but the topic would always die off, leaving them in the quiet again. It wasn't really like Louis to be like this, and Harry wanted to ask if he was alright, but he was afraid the question, or even the answer, would get turned around on him and he honestly didn't think he could handle that right then, so, instead, he stuck to being a terrible boyfriend.

“Are you still planning on going to the studio?” Harry asked once they had finished their meal and the dancer was loading the dishwasher.

“Yeah,” Louis said. “If you're okay with it.”

“Sounds fun,” Harry said, and it did. He'd seen a bit of the studio experience in behind-the-scenes videos of Louis's, but he knew actually being there would be completely different. He was excited to witness first hand how Louis got into the recording mindset and hear exactly how a song sounded before it was edited.

“I'm going to get a quick work out in first,” Louis said.

“Can I join?” Harry asked. There was a brief lapse in time where Louis subtly gave him a worried look, but it wouldn't have been noticeable if Harry hadn't been expecting it, probably.

“Of course,” Louis said.

Since Harry wasn't the strongest person, mentally or physically, and because, while he'd eaten more than he'd wanted to the past couple of days, he still wouldn't have enough energy for a strenuous work out routine, he stuck to the treadmill.

“I do the wimp's exercise,” he told Louis with a smile, though he was secretly worried that Louis would find it pathetic that the treadmill was all he chose to do.

“No, the treadmill is great,” Louis said, sounding sincere. “It works out so many different things and is great cardio. It's my favorite, honestly.”

While Harry walked on the treadmill, Louis started his warm-ups. He stopped and left the room only a couple minutes into their exercising, and when he came back, he had a sticky note and a roll of tape in hand. Harry raised an eyebrow, curious, but didn't say anything, even as Louis approached the machine that he was on. Standing on his tiptoes to look over the front of the treadmill, the singer placed a sticky note over the calorie reader and taped down all of the corners. When he looked up to find Harry staring at him, he smiled.

“I hope that wasn't out of line,” he said.

“No,” Harry said, not mentioning that he had been watching the 'number of calories burned' going up obsessively.

“Good,” Louis said, and went to work out his legs. Since Harry could no longer watch the calorie tracker, he watched his boyfriend.

Louis seemed to be going quicker with his work out, and Harry wasn't sure if that was because he wanted to get to the studio or because he wanted Harry to stop walking, but either way, he was grateful. When he was onstage, fueled by adrenaline, it was often hard for him to tell just how out of shape he was, but with a task as mundane as the treadmill, Harry felt his heart racing and his legs screaming at him to let them sit.

“Hey, are those as fun as they look?” Harry asked when Louis had abandoned the machines to start a new routine on an exercise ball.

“They're pretty fun,” Louis admitted. “I have an extra one over there. You can grab it and join me if you want.”

That was the best excuse Harry could find to quit the treadmill without looking completely pathetic, and so he shut down the machine he was on, resisting removing the sticky note to see how many calories he'd lost in the end, and grabbed Louis's extra medicine ball.

“What do you do on them?” he asked, for Louis had simply been sitting on his and watching Harry.

“Bounce around and pretend I'm Tigger,” Louis answered, and then proceeded to do exactly as he'd said. Harry laughed so hard he snorted and then he covered his face.

“Oh my god, that was gross.”

“Join me, Harry!” Louis called, turning around on his ball and bouncing back towards the other side of the room. Though Louis looked cute doing it, Harry knew he would look ridiculous, but he did anyway, both of them laughing until Harry was literally in stitches and fell off of his ball, knocking Louis to the ground in the process.

“Shit, I'm sorry,” he gasped, trying to sit up, but Louis wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and pulled him back down, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Sorry,” Harry said again once they'd broken apart. “Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” Louis assured him, and pulled him back down to kiss him some more.

 

At the studio, Harry met Louis's producer, and that was when he decided that he wanted to meet everyone important in Louis's life, only to hear Louis introduce him as his boyfriend again.

While Louis was in the sound booth, Harry sat next to the producer, but his eyes were stuck on Louis, completely mesmerized by his beauty and talent. Of course, it would have been more mesmerizing if Louis hadn't kept stopping.

“Sorry,” he said for the fifth time, pulling on his hair and looking stressed. “I messed up that note. I'm going back a little.”

“It sounded fine, Lou,” the older man said, also for the fifth time, but Louis ignored him, took a drink of water, cleared his throat and continued recording until he grew frustrated again a mere twenty seconds later.

“Finally,” his producer muttered once they had recorded every part of the song, but Louis did not share his relief upon exiting the sound booth and hearing the snippets back.

“It sounds like shit.”

“No, it doesn't,” the older man said, and Harry had to agree.

“It's beautiful,” he told his boyfriend. “How much more perfect do you expect yourself to get?”

Ignoring Harry's question, Louis said,

“It's not beautiful enough to measure up to your beauty.”

“You're silly,” Harry said, leaning over to kiss Louis shortly.

“This is such a raw song,” Louis's producer spoke again. “Why don't you record this one at home, with just you and Harry?”

“Harry might find it a little weird if I'm belting it out in my bathroom,” Louis said.

“I wouldn't,” Harry assured him immediately. “Have you recorded in your bathroom before?”

“Yeah. The acoustics are great. Most of my more personal songs have been recorded there, but...are you sure?”

“If you think it will help, of course,” Harry said, making sure to smile.

 

Before going to his bathroom to record, Louis insisted on having lunch. He made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich while Harry ate a few peanut butter crackers. Afterward, Harry decided it may help to get Louis inspired if they took a nap, making sure they did a special kind of exercise to work off lunch first.

Forty-five minutes after falling asleep, the men woke up at the same time, smiled at each other and then wordlessly got out of bed to get dressed. Louis made himself some tea, warmed up his vocal cords and then said that he was ready to record.

“You can go wherever is comfortable,” Louis said, setting up his recording device on the counter. “I know the bathroom isn't the most comfortable place, but...”

“It's fine,” Harry said, choosing to sit on the toilet seat and give his boyfriend a reassuring grin.

“Okay,” Louis sighed. After getting his guitar ready, he cleared his throat one last time and then began to sing. He had been right; the acoustics in the bathroom were amazing. Harry could hear every single note and beautiful vocal trick that Louis did so clearly. He hadn't nearly cried while listening to the song for a while, but he almost did then. He was thankful that he was able to keep himself together.

After he had sung the whole song through, Louis stopped the recording and listened to it back, chewing his lip and barely blinking. Harry was nervous. He'd thought Louis had done an excellent job and didn't know why the other couldn't hear that himself.

“That will do,” the singer said once the final note had been played back.

“I thought it was great,” Harry told him. With a smile, Louis took a few steps until he was in front of Harry and then kissed him.

“Can I ask why you like to record in here?” the dancer asked.

“Well,” Louis began, “a lot of my songs are like diary entries and it's weird singing them to other people.”

“Even in concerts?”

“No, not then. While I'm recording them, I have the knowledge that people are going to be hearing it for the first time. It's like opening up in a therapy session. By the time a live show rolls around, everyone has more than likely heard the songs and so that is simply re-telling a story that others can relate to and tell back.”

“You're amazing, Lou,” Harry said softly, standing up and pulling the singer tightly against his body. Louis wrapped his arms around Harry's middle, his ear pressed to his chest.

“Thank you for being such great inspiration,” he said.

“I don't know how I inspired that,” Harry admitted.

“Hey, how much more perfect do you expect yourself to get?” Louis asked, spitting Harry's earlier words back at him. The dancer gave a small chuckle.

“I don't know,” he answered.

“Well, you don't have to improve on anything,” the singer said.

“It's not just about appearances,” Harry explained. “It's about control too; the disorder. Like...it developed after the accident when I felt like I had no control over my body anymore and then it just kind of…stuck.”

“Well, can you get satisfaction in taking control over the disorder part and not the eating part?”

“It's harder to tell how much control I have that way,” the dancer told the other. “If I'm full, or even if I don't have that hungry feeling, it feels like I got out of control. But don't worry. I'm getting help.”

“Harry, I might not have any idea what I'm doing, but I want to help you, so if you need anything, or if I'm doing something wrong, tell me, okay?”

“You're doing fine,” Harry assured the other. Even if he didn't know what to do all the time, Louis needed to hear that he was doing an okay job, and, really, he was. “I'm here for you too,” Harry added, pulling away just enough for Louis to look up at him.

“I know,” Louis said.

“Are you sure?”

“More sure than I ever thought I would be with someone.”

Even though Louis hadn't opened up much to Harry yet, Harry felt like he knew him pretty well, both from his music and his personality. Louis was a great person, as Harry was sure everyone knew, but he'd been hurt, like everyone in the world had. He'd been betrayed and abandoned and told he wasn't good enough, and because of it, he always stayed leery of others. He let himself open up most of the way, but he kept a block around part of him so that he could tell himself it didn't hurt all that much when he was let down again.

Harry couldn't let him down.

***Liam***

Liam opened his eyes with a smile on his face, expecting to see Niall laying on the pillow next to him, but it turned out that the blonde wasn't there. A note lay in the spot where Liam had expected his head to be, and it read,

_Liam,_

_I went out to get some breakfast. Be back soon!_

_Love,_

_Niall_

Hoping that Niall had left a while ago so that he would be back sooner rather than later, Liam took his time with his morning stretches and then shuffled his way to the bathroom. It was right before he flushed the toilet that he heard the hotel door open, and he quickly washed his hands and went back to the bedroom.

“Hello!” Niall greeted, throwing a bag of greasy food onto the desk. Liam barely paid attention to that, though, because in his arms was a balloon animal; a brown dog, face drawn on and everything, with a purple balloon bone in its mouth. A smile broke across Liam's face.

“Cute animal,” he commented.

“It's yours,” Niall said, which Liam had already figured, but he wasn't going to outwardly assume. “I hope you like dogs.”

“I love dogs,” Liam said, taking the balloon from Niall and petting it on the head. Niall grinned.

“Do you have a dog at home?” he asked.

“No,” Liam sighed sadly. “I've always wanted one but never had one.”

“Maybe you can get one after the tour if you don't have to travel right away,” Niall suggested.

“Maybe,” Liam agreed. “It would be nice.”

“I picked up doughnuts for breakfast,” the other said next. “Hope that's okay.”

“Doughnuts are amazing.”

“The place had good reviews online, so I'm expecting these to taste as good as the cheesecake.”

“That's some tough competition.”

To Niall's delight, the doughnuts were delicious. They didn't quite measure up to the cheesecake, but they were close enough to still not be a disappointment.

“What are the plans for the day?” Niall asked Liam before finishing off the last bit of milk he had.

“I didn't have anything in mind,” Liam said. “Did you?”

As it turned out, Niall had a few things in mind, and the first thing the two decided to do was go to the Metropolitan museum. Neither of them were art buffs, but they figured that they wouldn't feel quite right with themselves if they didn't go there while in New York City. The art was impressive anyway; perhaps more so because they didn't know much about art. For a few seconds, Liam even decided that he was going to give drawing a go. Fortunately for Liam's ego, that thought didn't last long.

By the time they left the museum, the two were hungry again, and Niall suggested a picnic in the park, but Liam quickly shot down that idea, still traumatized from the pigeon incident the previous day. They stopped and ate pizza at a different (better) place than where they had been last night and then went to the park instead.

They had barely been walking five minutes before Liam's phone went off.

“Sorry,” Liam apologized to Niall. “It's my cousin. I'll only be a minute.”

“Take your time,” Niall assured him, and Liam accepted the Facetime call.

“Hey, Roo!”

“Hey, brat,” she greeted with a smile. “I didn't really expect you to answer.”

“What kind of cousin would that make me?” Liam asked, but he didn't give the woman a chance to reply with something that would surely be rude. “Hey, Roo, look at this! I'm in Central Park!”

Liam moved his phone around, allowing his cousin to witness his surroundings, and her smile had gotten softer once he turned the camera back on himself.

“I'm jealous,” she said.

“You should be,” Liam said. “By the way, this is Niall.”

“Oh, hey,” Niall said, smiling and waving when Liam moved closer to get him into the screen as well.

“Hi, Niall. I'm Ruth. Are you a dancer too?”

“Yeah. Nice to kind of meet you, Ruth.”

“You too. Hey, can you two hold on a second? Nicola and mum wanted to say hello.”

Liam didn't have time to protest-not that he was going to-because Ruth sprinted from her room downstairs to the kitchen.

“Mum! Nic! Liam is on Facetime.”

“And Niall,” Liam added as Ruth adjusted the camera to get them all in. The group shared their hellos and introductions, and then Ruth began to speak again.

“Oh, baby brother, we're probably coming to the Chicago show.”

“Nice!” Liam said approvingly. “Is Chicago pizza supposed to be good?”

“It's amazing,” Nicola spoke up. “I had it when I went on that U.S. tour right before university.”

“Yes!” Liam hissed excitedly, his mouth nearly watering even though he'd just eaten pizza less than an hour ago. “Ni, when are we in Chicago again?”

Niall looked upwards, thinking, and then snapped his head back, clicking his fingers together when he remembered.

“The second of next month, I believe.”

“About three weeks then,” Liam concluded.

“We were going to try to come to your birthday show but Geoff will be in London for work that day,” Karen said.

“That's okay,” Liam assured them. He was fortunate enough to have his birthday show be in Vegas, and his aunt, uncle and cousins were under no impression that he was an angel of any sort, but he still didn't think he wanted them to witness that sure disaster.

“When's your birthday?” Niall asked.

“The twenty-ninth of this month,” Liam answered.

“Noted.”

The girls smiled, rather creepily, in Liam's opinion, and he hoped Niall didn't notice.

“Oh, hey, Li,” Ruth spoke, “has that bitch tried to message you anymore?”

“Who?”

“Who do you think?”

“My mum?”

“Duh.”

“No, she hasn't,” Liam assured the woman. “She left a comment on one of my pictures, but that's all. I haven't said anything to her yet.”

“You haven't blocked her?!”

Karen tapped Ruth's shoulder and gave her a warning look. She sighed and Liam laughed.

“I'll call you all later, okay? Niall and I are going on a ferry ride.”

“See you soon!” Nicola said, disconnecting the chat immediately; probably before any of them could embarrass Liam. Sometimes, Liam really loved her.

“So we're going on a ferry ride?” Niall asked, an amused look on his face.

“I just needed to say we were doing something so hanging up wouldn't seem rude.”

“That's actually a good idea, though,” Niall said. “Let's go!”

And so they did.

 

Ruth must have jinxed the whole situation with Liam's mom because he got another message from her that night.

 _Hey, sweetie,_ the note began, _I know you're busy, but I would love to come to a show if there are any tickets available. Which one would work best for you?_

_XxxMumxxX_

Liam bit his lip, a million thoughts and emotions swirling around inside of him. Niall was asleep in the bed next to him, but stirred when Liam kicked the blanket off of himself. Liam paused, but the other man soon stilled and continued his even breathing pattern. In turn, Liam continued his internal panic.

He didn't really know why he was so indecisive on what to do. It had hurt that his mother had let him be thrown out so easily and that she never even contacted Geoff or Karen to check how he was doing over the years, but she hadn't actually hurt him like his father had. There had been several nights, both right after Liam moved in with his aunt and uncle and even recently, that Liam thought about calling her and hoping she had the same number. It made him sad that he couldn't share his best and worst moments with her, which meant that, whether he wanted to admit it or not, he missed her. The woman wasn't perfect, but neither was Liam, so maybe he should just get over himself enough to forgive her and let her back in his life now that she was working on entering it again.

 _How about the Chicago show?_ Liam typed out, and then pressed send. He could see that the woman was online currently, even though it was nearing four in the morning her time, and she replied after a few minutes.

_Liam! It's so good to hear from you! I would love to come to the Chicago show, but it's sold out._

_I'll see if I can do anything in the morning,_ Liam replied, his palms sweating. If he weren't afraid of freezing Niall out, he would crank the air up.

_Great, baby! Just let me know! Love you!_

Liam didn't reply-he wasn't quite ready for all of that yet-and then locked his phone, setting it face down on the nightstand so that he wouldn't be able to see if it lit up with another message.

After over thirty minutes of tossing and turning, Liam fell into a fitful sleep.

 

He waited until Niall was in the shower the next morning to call Louis and see about getting his mom into the Chicago show as well as his aunt, uncle and cousins. He knew that Niall would be supportive, but he didn't want to see the look on his face that hinted that he thought Liam was stupid, crazy or both. Liam knew that everyone disagreed with him talking to his mother, and he understood, but he knew that they couldn't get the reasons why he needed to.

As Liam figured, Louis didn't even hesitate before telling him that of course his mom could come too. He didn't know if they could get her on the same flight as the rest of his family, but they would get her to the show, he assured him. Liam thanked him and then Louis asked how the two of them were doing. Liam told them they were fine and asked the same for him and Harry. Louis told him that they were doing fine as well.

When the two hung up, Liam was nervous but excited. It was all over. He was going to meet his mother again. Things could go all wrong, he knew that, but still, a part of him remained optimistic. For a moment, Liam thought that he must be spending too much time with Niall before he realized that 'too much time with Niall' was impossible.

***Louis***

That afternoon, Dean called Louis to tell him that his 'Summer Song' video had been nominated for an award. When Louis told Harry, the biggest smile Louis thought he'd ever seen him give broke across his face and he excitedly pulled Louis into a hug.

“That's great!” he said. “I'm so proud of you!”

“I couldn't have done it without you,” Louis said. To him, at least, Harry had been the best part of that video. “Now, if you don't want to, it's totally okay and I understand, but I would love for you to accompany me to the award show.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asked, and when he pulled away from Louis, the singer didn't know why he looked so surprised.

“Of course I'm sure,” he said. “You're the star of the video and, besides, I want to know what it's like to have the prettiest date in the entire place.”

“You're full of shit,” Harry commented and then kissed Louis, probably thinking that would stop him from protesting against those words, but Louis wasn't letting him get away with that this time.

“I am full of shit,” he agreed, “but not about that.”

“When is the show?” Harry asked.

“Not until next month,” Louis said. “Still, we'll have to go shopping and have our outfits fitted and all that stuff. What colors should we wear? We totally have to coordinate.”

“Well…,” Harry began, drawing out the word so that he could give himself a moment to think, “you look really good in red, but I'm not sure I could pull it off.”

“Are you kidding?” Louis asked rhetorically because of course he wasn't kidding. “You can rock all colors, but I know red looks great on you. I've seen you in red lip color and it was gorgeous.”

Harry gave a gracious smile, but said,

“How about you wear red and accent it with black and I wear black and accent with red?”

“That sounds like a lovely idea.”

 

One of Louis's musician friends invited both him and Harry to a party at his mansion that night, and though Louis insisted to Harry that he would be completely happy simply having a quiet night in with him, Harry seemed set on going to the party.

“We really don't have to,” Louis said one last time as Harry flitted around the bedroom, nervously trying to find an outfit.

“I want to,” Harry said again. “I just don't know what to wear.”

“Would you like help?”

“Please.”

Louis looked through Harry's wardrobe carefully, mentally putting together certain shirts with different pairs of jeans. He knew Harry would look good in anything, but he wanted to pick something he would feel good in too, if such a thing were possible.

“How about this with some boots?” Louis asked, holding a pair of ripped black skinnies in one hand and a white t-shirt with a glittery black skull in the other. Belatedly, he realized that the ripped pants might show too much skin for Harry to be truly comfortable in, but the dancer had already agreed.

“Hair up or down?” he asked next.

“It looks good either way, but I think with this outfit's aesthetic...down.”

Harry nodded and pulled the tie out of his hair, shaking his curls into place while Louis watched, attempting to not let his mouth fall open.

Well, he wasn't gaping, at least…

After Harry had changed and looked in the mirror, his distress only seemed to grow. He tugged on his shirt and pants, sighed and then did it again until Louis walked over and pressed a kiss onto the back of his arm.

“Beautiful,” he said. “Hey, do you think you can help me with my face?”

“What do you mean? Harry asked, turning away from the mirror, for which Louis was grateful.

“Just put some make-up on me, please? I'm in a 'wanting to feel pretty' mood.”

“You already look pretty,” Harry said, “but yes, I will do your make-up, if you'd like.”

As Louis had hoped, Harry began to relax as he used Louis's face as a canvas. The singer had told him to do as he pleased, and so Harry had given him a mild smoky eye with subtle eyeliner, a slight contour and just a tint of pink lip color.

“You're amazing,” Louis said as he looked into the mirror once Harry had finished. Louis had a healthy self-esteem, but he still didn't think he was all that attractive. That changed when Harry made him up, though. If the dancer wasn't around, he would probably have pulled a few model poses for himself.

“My sister taught me,” Harry explained.

“Have you and your sister always been close?” Louis asked.

“Yeah. We had our moments, like all siblings, but we were closer than most, I think.”

“That's nice,” Louis said. He'd always secretly wanted a sibling, if only so his mother could potentially have a kid that wasn't quite so messed up as he used to feel.

 

The boyfriends took a cab to the party so that neither had to worry about staying sober if they decided they didn't want to, and then they walked up to the door holding hands.

“Louis! Hey, mate! Long time, no see and all that!” Louis's friend, Ed, greeted when he opened the door to find the two standing there. He hugged Louis first and then turned to the other man, his arms still outstretched.

“Harry!” he said. “What's up? I'm Ed. It's nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Harry said, politely allowing Ed to hug him.

“Come on in,” the host said when they pulled apart. “Grab a drink. I'm about to go find some better music to play, but we'll meet up soon.”

“Okay, you arse,” Louis laughed, because it was his song that was currently echoing through the speakers. Ed cackled, but disappeared with a wave. With another small giggle, Louis turned back to Harry, taking his hand again.

“Would you like a drink, my love?”

“Okay.”

Louis and Harry got stopped multiple times on the way to the bar by people Louis hadn't seen in forever. Most of them already seemed to know who Harry was, and all were polite. Though Harry seemed nervous, he was smiling and kept assuring Louis that he was fine each time he asked. Fortunately, they soon made it to the bar, which Louis figured might help the dancer to finally calm down a bit.

After they got their beverages, the men turned and Louis nearly ran into someone standing right behind him, splashing his drink out a bit onto himself.

“Shit, sorry,” he said, sipping the liquid from his hand, but when he focused on who the other person actually was, he froze with his mouth still on his skin.

“No harm done,” the other man said, a wide smile on his face. “I was standing awfully close for someone who knows firsthand how clumsy you can be. Do you remember that time you knocked over a candle and nearly lit me on fire?”

“I try not to,” Louis said, smiling as he lowered his hand to his side and then took a small sip of his drink. “How are you doing? This is my boyfriend, Harry.”

It probably should have been weird, Louis thought; introducing his ex-boyfriend to his current boyfriend, but it wasn't at all, at least for him.

“Hey, Harry, how are you?” Caleb asked, and he didn't seem at all bothered by the situation. Louis hadn't expected him to, as Caleb had been the one to leave Louis and break his heart. The reason he gave was that they were 'drifting apart' but the true reason, as everyone knew, was that Caleb had fallen for a male model from Brazil instead.

It had taken Louis a while to get over Caleb. Thousands of tears and more than half of an album had been dedicated to the man, but now, Louis could barely remember the pain and he remembered the love he'd felt for the man even less. Caleb, and the way he'd felt about Caleb, had nothing on Harry.

Of course, Harry didn't know that (even though Louis thought he should) and there was a slight frown on his face when he and Caleb finished their introduction and Caleb turned back to Louis.

“How have you been, Lou?” he asked. He was just being nice, Louis knew, but suddenly he wished the man would just go away; not for himself, but for Harry.

“I've been great!” Louis said, moving closer to Harry and putting an arm around his waist. “Yourself?”

“Good, good,” Caleb said.

“Glad to hear it,” Louis replied. “I actually have to run to the loo real quick, but maybe we'll bump into each other later?”

“Yeah, sure. Nice to see you again.”

“You too,” Louis said politely, taking Harry's free hand with his and leading him away. “Sorry about that,” he apologized once they were a safe distance away.

“It's okay,” Harry said, and his lips were smiling, but his eyes didn't look as happy. “Do you really need to go to the toilet or were you just trying to get away?”

“I was totally just trying to get away.”

“Oh, okay.”

After a pause, Louis added,

“So what would you like to do? Want to down our drinks real quick and dance? Or are you completely tired of dancing? Because we can go out back and see what's going on there too.”

“Let's finish our drinks, dance for a bit and then go outside,” Harry decided. Louis agreed with the plan.

 

Five drinks later (well, five drinks for Louis...Harry was only on his second), Louis decided that he actually did need to use the toilet. Harry followed him, but after verifying that he was only going inside to take a wee and wouldn't pass out or get sick all over the place, he waited outside for him, holding Louis's nearly empty glass while the singer went to the bathroom. Once Louis was done, it was Harry's turn to go, and Louis waited for him as well, humming as he finished his drink and then obnoxiously slurped on the straw once it was empty, trying to drain every last bit he could from the ice cubes at the bottom.

“Is someone in there?” a voice asked, and Louis stopped slurping long enough to look up and see a familiar-looking blonde man a few feet from him. Taking his mouth off of his straw, Louis said,

“Yeah, Harry. He'll be out in a minute.”

“No rush. I actually just wanted to come and say hi, but I didn't know how to do so without being awkward. Come to think of it, just saying 'hello, how are you,' probably would have been the best way to go.”

Louis smiled, not wanting the man to feel awkward. He was the one who should feel awkward because he was now convinced that he should know who this man was, but he couldn't put a name to his face. Luckily, he was good at pretending.

“Hey!” Louis said cheerily. “How have you been doing?”

“I've been great!” the man told him. “Life couldn't get better, honestly.”

“That's amazing,” Louis said, getting a bit emotional because that really was just so lovely. There wasn't enough good in the world, so when he found someone who was genuinely happy, he couldn't help but to get a little choked up.

“Thanks, but how are you, man?! I've heard your tour is doing great and that you have a new boyfriend! That's awesome!”

“Yeah!” Louis said, a huge smile breaking across his face. “Everything is so wonderful!”

The man laughed, but before he could say anything, the bathroom door opened and out stepped Harry.

“That's my boyfriend!” Louis announced. “That's Harry!”

“Hi, Harry,” the man laughed.

“Hey,” Harry said.

“Anyway, I'm going to go take that piss now. I'll see you guys later!”

Louis nodded, his mouth too full with ice cubes to speak, and then he took Harry's hand once again to head back to the party.

“Sorry, I would have introduced you to that guy, but I don't exactly know who he was,” Louis said, standing on his tiptoes to whisper in Harry's ear all whilst walking.

“Wait, are you serious?” Harry asked, his eyes scanning over Louis's face to verify if he was joking or not.

“Yeah, I'm serious,” Louis said.

“Babe...that was Josiah.”

“Josiah?”

“Yeah…”

“Like...the Josiah that I fake dated for a bit?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, fuck. Harry, I think I might be drunk.”

“I think you might be cut off,” Harry said, but he was smiling and gave Louis a kiss.

“So minty,” Louis breathed. Harry laughed.

“Would you like a piece of gum?”

“I'd rather keep tasting yours.”

 

The two didn't stay much longer. Even though Harry insisted that he was having fun, Louis didn't quite believe him and he was starting to get that head-spinning feeling that came from drinking a bit too much alcohol anyway.

“Harry, I think I might be a light weight,” Louis said as Harry helped him get into the cab. Harry simply laughed and kissed Louis on the cheek before telling the driver where they needed to go.

Louis nearly fell asleep on the way home, but he perked up again after Harry helped him up the stairs and to bed, the dancer getting him stripped down to his underwear.

“I love you,” Louis said, cupping Harry's face in his hands so that he could stare at its feataures, illuminated only partially by the bit of moon pouring through his window.

“I love you,” Harry returned, kissing Louis's wrist softly.

“I love you so much,” Louis continued. “I love your hair and your eyes and your lips and your nose and your entire face and your hips and your chest and your abs and your legs and your heart.”

“Wow,” Harry laughed.

“I love your personality too,” Louis added.

“Well, for sake of time, I'm going to summarize by saying that I love everything about you,” Harry said, “but do you know what I love most?”

“Um...my bum?”

“I do love it, but no.”

“My smile?”

“It's a close second.”

“...My eyes?”

“They're beautiful, but would you like the answer?”

“Yes, tell me!”

“Okay. What I love most about you is...your cute little elf ears.”

Louis giggled as Harry leaned forward to nip on one of Louis's 'little elf ears,' (that he still found wonky himself) and then he kissed his boyfriend's lips.

“I love you,” he said again.

“I love you too, Lou.”

 

Harry was awake before Louis the next morning; a rare occurrence. When Louis found him, the dancer was at the kitchen table, sipping tea while his leg bounced nervously.

“Is everything okay?” Louis asked. Harry nodded once.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Good,” Louis said, “barely a minor headache, but are you sure you're good, love?”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed, setting down his cup and resting his chin on his hand. “I'm fine, but there's something I have to tell you.”

Louis had already been nervous, but now he was petrified. He sat in the chair across from Harry, clasping his hands in his lap tightly.

“What is it?”

“About last night...it started rumors.”

“Rumors? What kind of rumors?”

Louis's head had been a little hazy, but he didn't think he'd done anything to cause any type of false information being spread.

“Someone leaked a picture of you and Josiah talking and now people think you two are..doing things.”

For a moment, Louis replayed the words over in his mind, sure he had to have interpreted them wrong.

“What?” he finally asked, and then shook his head. “But I'm with you.”

“Yeah...they mentioned that too...”

“All he and I were doing was talking!”

“I know that, but people will start rumors over anything, I think.”

“Yeah, they will but...”

Louis trailed over, shaking his head again, faster.

“I'm sorry, Harry. Nothing happened, but you shouldn't have to deal with that.”

“It's alright,” Harry said. “I know nothing happened.”

“I need to call Dean. I'll be back.”

Louis went upstairs, where he'd left his phone, and picked it up from the nightstand, quickly clicking on Dean's contact information.

“I was wondering when I would hear from you,” the older man said as a means of a 'hello.'

“Dean, what the fuck?!” Louis said. “Did you set this up?!”

“What? No! Why would I do that, Louis?”

“I don't know! It's a little weird though, don't you think? Someone sneakily took a picture of Josiah and me doing absolutely nothing and leaked it to the internet, claiming that we were doing stuff behind Harry's back or some shit. We were at Ed's house, surrounded by friends! No one would have done that without being told to or something!”

“I'm assuming there were many people there who weren't actual friends,” Dean said. “In the least, there was one; whoever took the photo. I promise you, Lou, I had nothing to do with that.”

“Swear to me?”

“Yes, I swear...Lou, are you crying?”

Deciding that he didn't need Louis to confirm that he was, in fact, crying, Dean then said,

“Don't cry. It's going to be okay.”

“I wouldn't cheat on Harry!”

“I know that.”

“But what if Harry doesn't?!”

Though Harry had claimed that he believed the rumors to be false, Louis knew how insecure he was and this couldn't have helped to keep doubt of their relationship-of Louis's love for him-from his mind.

“Harry's dating a famous pop star, and he's creating quite the name for himself as well,” Dean said. “He's got to get used to crazy rumors.”

“I'm telling everyone today that it's bull shit. I want nothing to do with Josiah ever again.”

“Okay, Louis.”

“Good.”

Louis sniffled, but Dean ignored it; asking another question instead.

“How is Harry dealing with the other rumors?”

“What other rumors?!”

Suddenly, Louis's barely existing headache was forming into a pounding one.

“Oh, you hadn't heard of those yet?” Dean asked, sounding hesitant.

“Apparently not.”

“Well, some bloke posted something about knowing Harry back a while ago and said that he had some type of eating disorder; anorexia, I think it was.”

“Oh my god, no.”

Louis whispered the words, as he hadn't even meant to say it out loud, but Dean heard and sounded nearly nonchalant as he spoke again.

“Yeah, I mean, he's a skinny guy and those types of rumors are a favorite for celebrities.”

“But Harry does have an eating disorder!” Louis exclaimed harshly. “He's trying to get better and this isn't going to help anything!”

“Oh...oh, god!” Dean said, but then returned his voice back to normal. “Alright, calm down. He's trying to get better, you say?”

“He's taking medication and talking to a therapist, but that doesn't mean he's alright!”

“No, I know, but he's trying...that's good, and we can use this for good, maybe.”

“Nothing about this is good, Dean!”

“Louis, calm down,” the manager said again, his tone friendly but stern at the same time. “I didn't say it was good. All I'm saying is that, if Harry wants to, he can bring awareness to the subject. That mixed with your new song will be a great combination.”

“I'm not using Harry's sickness for promotion!”

“I know that. I'm not telling you to. Look, we'll talk later. First, go discuss things with Harry and decide what both of you want to do. We'll handle it however you both want.”

“Really?”

“Yes. This is a serious matter and your well-being is what I care about; both yours and his. I don't tell you that I love you like a son for the hell of it, Lou, and you love Harry, so he's a part of the family too.”

“Alright. Thanks, Dean.”

When the two hung up, Louis wanted to run downstairs to Harry and offer more apologies and all the comfort he could, but first, he had to pull himself together. He let his tears fall for only a couple of minutes more before splashing cold water on his face and then hurrying downstairs. Harry was still sitting at the table. It didn't look like he'd moved at all.

“Hey, how did...Have you been crying?” Harry asked, his eyebrows pulled together in concern.

“No,” Louis lied, but Harry didn't believe him anyway. He stood and pulled Louis close, rubbing circles into his back as he placed kisses to the top of his head.

“It's all going to be fine, super star,” he said. “The rumors don't matter. We both know the truth.”

“Yeah, that's...”

Louis sighed.

“Did you hear about the other...em...rumors?”

“The eating disorder ones?” Harry asked. Louis felt relieved that he already knew about it, but only for a moment because he wondered what that had been doing to Harry internally as well.

“I'm so sorry,” Louis said, tears prickling at his eyes again, and, unfortunately, he couldn't hide them because Harry pulled away, keeping his hands on Louis's shoulders but studying his face carefully.

“It's not your fault, Lou,” Harry said.

“Well, what do you want to do about it?” Louis asked, moving his hand to wipe the stray tear that had escaped from his eye, but Harry beat him to it.

“I don't know,” Harry admitted, “but you don't need to be so upset, babe.”

“I'm going to tell everyone that I didn't cheat, of course,” Louis said, “but you don't have to say anything about the disorder if you don't want to.”

“Well...do you think the so-called rumors will go away?”

“They usually do.”

“Even if they're true?”

Louis bit his lip, not wanting to tell him that the true ones usually stuck around. Harry seemed to understand his silence.

“I kind of figured,” he said.

“I'm sure there's something we can do. You could always lie. I wouldn't judge. Nobody would.”

“No, that wouldn't be right,” Harry said right away.

“I'm going to support you, no matter what your decision,” Louis said.

“I need to think on it a little. Is that okay?”

“Of course. I'm sorry, Harry.”

“Lou, were you the one who told the media?”

“What? Of course not!”

“Then you don't need to apologize.”

“You're so strong, Harry,” Louis said, and then the river of tears started again. He blinked hard against them, but it was useless. Harry tried to keep up with wiping them away for a few moments before realizing he couldn't. Then he took a seat back at the table, pulling Louis down onto his lap. Louis wasn't the type to be self-conscious over his body or anything-he knew it could be better, but he accepted it as it was-but he couldn't help but fear how heavy he had to feel to Harry.

“You're strong, Lou,” Harry said.

“No,” Louis disagreed. “You are.”

“I don't feel...never mind.”

“You can tell me.”

“I know, but...it's nothing.”

Harry let out a deep breath, putting his forehead against Louis's as he stared downwards at nothing in particular. Though he wasn't crying along with Louis, he looked sad, and he _was_ sad; sad because of what this life had done to him and, inadvertently, what Louis had done to him.

Never before had Louis's desire to give up his fame been so strong.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, ok. I'm sorry this is almost a week late. I am an idiot who forgot that Thanksgiving break was last week and so I left my flash drive that had what was written of this chapter on it as well as my notebook with the outline for the chapter at the school where I work. My co-worker who has access to the school stopped by tonight and brought me my stuff, but I didn't have time to finish the chapter and so I am posting what I already had, which is only one POV. I'm really sorry, but I'll have the rest on Tuesday and then a full chapter on (hopefully) Thursday.

***Harry***

No matter how hard he tried, Harry couldn't make Louis feel better. He didn't know why the singer was so upset in the first place. Sure, the rumors weren't fun to deal with, but Harry had assumed he would have been used to them. He'd had worse things said about him than he may have cheated on his boyfriend with an ex-flame. It wasn't true, which Louis was sure to tell everyone, and from what Harry could tell, most people believed him. In the least, Harry believed him, which the dancer thought should matter most.

As for Harry's personal 'rumors,' that was all on himself, he thought. They bothered him, but he'd done it to himself. Someone from his past-Harry had refused to do the minimal amount of research it would take to find out who-had betrayed him by going to the media, but if Harry hadn't been so weak as to give into the sickness in the first place, there would be nothing to tell. He didn't deserve to have his privacy respected. He deserved the judgment he would receive; the people telling him that he was pathetic, or an attention whore, or not worthy of this wonderful life he appeared ungrateful for. They were right.

No one, as far as Harry knew, had said these things yet, but they would, and all Harry could do was selfishly hope that Louis didn't agree. They say that love is blind, and Harry was counting on that in more ways than one.

Still, Harry voiced none of these thoughts to Louis. He put on his brave face and told Louis that everything was going to be okay because he was sure they would, at least for the singer.

The worst part of it all, Harry thought, was that Louis would give a half-lit smile and say that he knew it would be okay before carrying on like nothing was wrong; like he didn't have to blink back tears every so often and that he hadn't suddenly developed a Harry-sized appetite. Harry wondered if he was growing depressed again and decided if this behavior persisted for more than a day or two, then he would suggest going back on medication.

Ironically, as Harry was extremely worried by the little amount that Louis was eating, he took it upon himself to order pizza that night. He would even allow himself a piece, punishment-free, just to potentially alleviate some stress from his boyfriend. Pizza, he'd known for a while, was Louis's favorite food, and even though he'd smiled when he opened the door and accepted the delivery, once it came time to sit down and eat, his smile faded and he took a couple bites before beginning to mindlessly pull the cheese off the top of his slice, seeming lost in his own mind.

“Alright,” Harry spoke, causing Louis to jump, proving the theory that he wasn't all mentally present to be true. “Talk to me.”

“About what?” Louis asked, doing that infuriating fake smile he'd done multiple times that day. Harry would almost rather he frowned; maybe even cried because at least that would be real.

“You know that I don't believe those rumors about you and Josiah, right?” Harry verified despite the fact that he'd told Louis that he didn't more times than he could count already.

“I hope you don't,” Louis said, which wasn't really an answer.

“I don't,” Harry insisted.

“I'm glad, but I know they're not true and I was hoping that, even if you thought they were, that you would come around. Honestly, the other ones are bothering me more.”

“You mean the ones that aren't actually rumors?”

“Yeah. You shouldn't have to worry about all of this, Harry.”

“It's okay. Really, don't let it bother you so much. Maybe some good can even come from it. I can, like, raise awareness to the situation or something.”

Louis had stopped his fake smile almost as quickly as it had formed, but his blank expression turned to one of confusion then; disapproval, even.

“Have you talked to Dean?” the singer questioned suspiciously.

“No,” Harry said, confused, but he decided not to question why he had wondered that at the moment. “I'm just saying that, while I was at the hospital, there was only me and one other boy surrounded by females. And, like, I'm not trying to undermine girls with disorders at all, but it was kind of weird with it being just me and him. My doctor told me that there are a lot of other male sufferers but that they're less likely to look for help because they're possibly even more ashamed than the others. I don't know if that's true or not, but shame is a big part of the disorder, no matter what sex or gender. I feel like keeping quiet would just make other people who are sick feel like they have to stay silent too.”

Harry was still ashamed of himself, of course, but he didn't want others to feel that way. He believed it to be his own fault that he was like this, but for anyone else suffering, it was a sickness, out of their control. Those feelings weren't logical, as he'd been told many times, but Harry couldn't change what he truly thought and felt to be true.

“I'm scared,” Louis said quietly after a noticeable pause.

“Scared of what?” Harry asked gently, scooting his chair closer to the other's and resting his hands on his boyfriend's thighs, massaging them in what he hoped to be a comforting manner. Louis didn't give any indication either way.

“I don't want this to ruin the progress you've made so far.”

Harry didn't note that he hadn't really made much progress anyway. Instead, he said,

“It won't. I'm going to tell the truth.”

“You don't have to,” Louis said, his eyes widening as Harry tried to stand but was stopped by the other grabbing his wrists.

“I want to,” Harry said, and he wasn't sure if that was true or not, but he wanted to do what would make Louis feel better and he thought that this would be it in the long run. “It might help.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Louis let Harry go and followed him to the living room, where his laptop was. Shaking slightly, Harry typed in his pass code and opened his internet browser, chewing on his lip as he already tried to form the correct words in his head.

_Today, I woke up to the news that someone from my past let out a secret that I try to keep from all of those who don't know me extremely well-that I have an eating disorder; anorexia nervosa, to be exact._

Harry didn't think he actually was that severe in his disorder anymore, but it was the diagnosis he'd been given a while ago and it was easier to stick with it than to try to convince everyone that he was only on the verge of that specific illness.

_I started developing it when I was just eleven years old and it's something that's been with me ever since. Of course, some days are better than others. I was put into treatment as a teenager and I recovered as much as one can ever recover from something like this, I think, but it's still here. I'm in a complicated place with it right now, but I'm getting help, and I'm so grateful for everyone close to me for being so supportive. To anyone else that is suffering with something of the same nature, or any other mental illness, really, I know this sounds cheesy, but there is help out there. Try not to be afraid to seek it._

_-Harry_

“Was that too much?” the dancer asked as soon as Louis started to read. “Not enough?”

“It's great, Harry,” Louis said once he had finished reading, blinking a few times, quickly. “I'm so proud of you.”

Instead of telling Louis that he had no reason to be, Harry smiled and gave him a kiss.

 

Harry had hoped that Louis would feel better upon waking the next morning, but it was soon clear that he didn't. He laid in bed for a while after waking, despite the fact that they had a flight to catch, and then moved slowly as they got ready. A couple of times, Harry had to urge him to speed things along, but he stopped when Louis visibly got teary again, despite the fact that he hadn't used any sort of negative tone with him.

Louis was forced to skip breakfast in order to make their flight, but he didn't seem to mind and he rejected the flight attendant's offer for food when she came around the first two times. Upon Harry's urging, he got a sandwich the third time, but took about three bites and then said he was going to take a nap.

“Are you feeling alright?” Harry asked as Louis rested his head on his shoulder and yawned.

“Fine, Harry,” Louis said, turning his head to kiss Harry's arm before settling again to drift off. For the first time since this whole thing, it was Harry's turn to want to cry, but he didn't.

 

Liam and Niall came to Louis's hotel room about an hour after Harry had told them they arrived, bearing dinner and cheesecake from a place that both claimed to be the most amazing cheesecake place to exist in the entire planet. Louis ate about half of his dinner, which was more than he had been consuming recently, but still not enough in Harry's opinion, which might have made him a hypocrite since he didn't even eat more than five bites of his own, but that was expected of him, at least. Louis put his cheesecake in the refrigerator, promising to eat it later, and then Harry's feelings were validated by Liam and Niall's frowns.

“You alright, mate?” Liam asked.

“Yeah, I just feel kind of weird,” Louis said, despite telling Harry on the plane that he felt fine. “Plane rides get to me sometimes. Not often, but...sometimes.”

 _“I'm really fine,”_ Harry had told multiple people on many different occasions when he hadn't been fine at all. _“I just don't feel good, is all.”_

“You can't get sick again!” Niall exclaimed, laying his hand across Louis's forehead and pursing his lips like a stern mother. “Everyone about lost their shit the first time.”

“I'm fine,” Louis laughed, batting Niall's hand away and then being tackled onto the bed by Liam in a tickle-fest. Though he was laughing, and that sound was usually beautiful to Harry's ears, it then sounded like another fake assurance that he was okay, just like the words, _'I'm fine.'_

_Good job, Harry. You broke him._

 

“So you actually didn't feel good,” Harry said once Liam and Niall had seen themselves out. He didn't want to start an argument, but he needed to get to the bottom of what was a lie and what wasn't.

“What?” Louis asked, frowning in confusion as he laid across his stomach on the bed and put his hands underneath his chin.

“On the plane you said you felt fine but you told Liam that you didn't.”

“Oh,” Louis said. “I felt fine at first on the plane. It was just after I ate the sandwich.”

Harry narrowed his eyes.

“What?” the singer asked with a small laugh. “I'm okay, love. It's not that serious.”

The dancer sighed, lying on the bed as well, but on his back; his head propped up by a couple of pillows. Louis shifted positions so that he could face the other man.

“I love you,” he said, lacing their fingers together.

“I love you too,” Harry said, leaning forward to kiss Louis's forehead. The smaller man curled into his side and stayed that way until he fell asleep a few minutes later. Even though, normally, Harry would give anything to have Louis sleep more, now the amount of rest he required was worrying him.

 

The next day, Harry finally looked at a few replies to the post he had written. Even though they were nice replies, they made him feel sick because he wasn't strong, brave or an inspiration like they were claiming. He hadn't meant to make himself look like the hero he wasn't.

“Hm...good morning!” Louis said cheerfully from beside Harry as he stretched his arms out upon waking.

“Good morning,” Harry said, setting his phone down to put his full attention on his boyfriend, who hadn't woken once during the night, that he was aware of, despite going to bed at an extremely early hour. “How are you feeling?”

“Still kind of weird. I'm okay though!”

Getting onto his knees, Louis placed a kiss on Harry's forehead and then made to get off the bed, but Harry draped his own legs over the other's, halting him.

“Wait, Lou, tell me the truth.”

“About what, my love?”

“You're not, like, trying to starve yourself so that I'll beg you to eat and then you can bribe me with, 'I'll eat if you eat' are you?”

“No…,” Louis said, looking at Harry as if he'd lost his mind for suggesting such a thing. “I'm not even starving myself, but I'm assuming that method wouldn't work great even if I was so inclined.”

“It wouldn't work at all,” Harry stated flatly. Gemma, with her best intentions, had tried it once, but it had blown up in both of their faces, as any expert would have told her it would.

“I wouldn't do that,” Louis said, “and you've been eating some...right? You're not purging or, I don't know, somehow pretending like you're eating?”

“I'm eating,” Harry said truthfully. He wasn't eating quite as much as Louis thought, but he hadn't purged for a few days and he was still consuming something, so it counted.

“Okay then,” Louis said, still looking worriedly at Harry. “Can I go take a wee or is there something we need to talk about?”

“Go,” Harry said, sharper than he'd meant to. Louis flinched back a bit, but before Harry could apologize, the singer had gotten up and turned his back, heading quickly to the bathroom.

For breakfast, Louis ate a couple bites of his cheesecake and Harry ate fruit. It was something, the dancer told himself, for both of them.

Soon after showering, the pair headed to the venue where the concert was taking place. Louis put his fake smile back on and hugged everyone he hadn't seen for a few days, insisting to Beatrice that he was fine when she commented on his unusual paleness. Harry bit his lip so he wouldn't tell her that he'd claimed the opposite just that morning.

Somehow, neither Harry nor Louis remembered to tell the other they needed to eat lunch and before they knew it, it was dinner time. Seeming to be remembering the conversation he and Harry had had that morning, Louis forced more into his mouth than he had the past couple of days, keeping eye contact with Harry. Harry tried to smile, but it didn't feel right.

“Did you have a nice break?” Louis's makeup artist asked him politely as she began applying foundation to his face. Harry sat in the empty chair opposite of his boyfriend, watching the lady transform his already flawless face.

“Yeah, it was nice,” Louis said, his voice so quiet that Harry barely even heard him.

“Good,” the lady said. “How about you, Harry?”

“Yeah. How was yours?” the dancer replied.

“It went really well! I stayed in New York and had the full tourist experience.”

“Good.”

The three fell silent, the artist humming as she looked for her powder, and then pausing when she turned back to Louis, her brush mere inches from his face.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” she asked. Immediately, Harry was alert, leaning forward to get a better look at his boyfriend, who had suddenly grown extremely pale. His eyes were glassy and he was gripping the chair so tightly that his knuckles were white.

“I don't...feel good,” Louis said, and while the makeup artist hurried to grab a trash can, Harry knew that wasn't an 'about to get sick face', but an 'about to pass out' face and he ran to Louis just in time to catch him as he fell forwards off his chair. While the woman yelled out, Harry scooped Louis up and laid him on the couch, fanning him with a nearby magazine as the singer weakly turned his head, attempting to come back to consciousness.

All of those times that Harry nearly fainted, he had thought Louis over reacted with his worry, but never would he accuse him of that again because he was currently terrified.

Soon, Beatrice was in the room as well as a couple of medics, who waved something underneath Louis's nose to rouse him. He choked and gasped as he quickly came to and Harry helped him sit up, keeping an arm tight around his shoulder.

“Lou?” Beatrice asked, crouching so that she was at eye level with the singer as he blinked open his eyes.

“Wha' happened?” he slurred, looking from her to Harry and back again.

“You fainted,” she explained.

“You were sitting in the chair, said you didn't feel good and then just fell forward,” Harry explained.

“Oh,” Louis said, frowning in confusion for a moment before he shrugged weakly. “Sorry, I'm good.”

Harry pulled the man back down as he attempted to stand. A medic ran a thermometer across his forehead while the other checked his pulse, and Louis sighed.

“This is really unnecessary,” he said.

“You fainted,” Harry pointed out flatly. “It's necessary.”

Beatrice retrieved a bottle of water from the mini fridge in the room and opened it for Louis, who thanked her as she handed it to him. He took a sip and then smiled at Harry.

“Don't look so worried, tiny dancer,” he said.

“You fainted,” Harry stated again.

“I don't think I was _all_ the way out,” Louis said. Harry shook his head once, quickly, and then panicked as he felt tears well up in his eyes. He didn't want to leave Louis's side, but he had Beatrice and the medics and so Harry knew he would be fine. It would be better if Harry left for a moment rather than stay and have Louis see him cry because if Louis was anything like him (and he was seeming, recently, to be too much like Harry), then the tears would only make things worse.

“I'll be right back,” Harry said, and quickly left the room, ignoring Louis saying his name behind him.

“What happened?” Liam asked as Harry passed by him, Niall and a slew of other dancers and crew members waiting nearby. Liam had already seen Harry break down, but the others hadn't, and so Harry continued moving forward. Footsteps fell behind him, but when he glanced back, he saw that it was only his friend and so he didn't bother to argue as he followed him into a nearby dressing room and locked the door behind them.

“What happened?” he asked again.

“Louis passed out!” Harry exclaimed, the tears finally coming down quickly. Liam's eyes widened.

“Oh my god! Is he okay?!”

“I don't know how to answer that,” Harry scoffed. “I mean, he's awake and everything, but Liam, I broke him!”

The words sounded quite melodramatic to Harry's ears, worsened by his voice cracking, but Liam didn't laugh or roll his eyes at them. Instead, he took a few steps forward to wrap Harry in his arms, letting Harry squeeze him back in return.

“Why do you think you broke him?” Liam questioned.

“He hasn't been eating much ever since the news about my problem came out!”

“I thought he just didn't feel well?”

“That's always what we say!”

“Sh, sh,” Liam hushed softly when Harry's tone reached dangerously loud levels. “You don't think he actually has an eating disorder too, do you?”

“I don't know! He could be developing one! When I was younger, they made my sister go to therapy too because they said that she could pick it up, being so close to me.”

“Okay...I get why you're worried, but maybe he's just stressed? He has those rumors about him too, on top of tour and everything else. A lot of people eat less when they're stressed. How long has it gone on?”

“Just since the day before yesterday.”

“Don't worry too much yet. I know that's easier said than done,” Liam added as Harry backed up and began to protest. “You see it as an eating disorder because that's what you know, but it could be nothing like that. It's _probably_ nothing like that.”

“Fuck, Liam, he was white as a fucking ghost and then his eyes rolled back and he just...fell.”

“Yeah, and I know that was terrifying. You fainted on us before too.”

Liam gave a teasing smile and bopped Harry lightly on the nose before continuing more seriously.

“Look, I know it's had to have been a stressful few days for both of you, but don't jump to conclusions, okay? If Louis needs help, you bet Beatrice and everyone else will make sure he gets it, but he's human and humans have off days, all of us.”

Harry sighed, wiping his eyes (luckily the tears themselves were short-lived) and then both of them jumped, Liam quite visibly, as there was a knock on the door.

“Hey, Harry?”

“What the fuck is he doing up?!” Harry wondered aloud at the sound of Louis's voice, and Liam snorted as he opened the door for the singer.

“Oh, hi, Liam,” Louis said, and then rushed towards his boyfriend.

“Babe, I'm so sorry,” Louis said, his fists holding onto the front of Harry's shirt tightly. The dancer saw Liam slip from the room and he wrapped his arms around Louis's waist, still not comfortable with the fact that he was already back on his feet.

“Don't apologize, just…Why are you standing?”

“I'm okay,” Louis assured him, letting go of Harry to grab a water bottle from his back pocket and take a swig, probably for Harry's comfort. He continued, “What we talked about earlier, I swear I wasn't...I mean, I honestly haven't been hungry. I didn't realize I was cutting back that much. I wasn't trying to...I'm so sorry if that triggered you or something. I swear I didn't mean to.”

“I feel like a hypocrite, but you need to eat,” Harry said, and then he pulled Louis closer to kiss his lips, as his adrenaline rush was still going strong and he needed to feel Louis's lips kissing him back, assuring that maybe, for now, he was okay.

“I will,” Louis promised. “I'm really sorry. Sometimes when I get stressed, I just...do shit like that. I forget to eat or, like, one time I forgot to shower for a couple days, so, really, you got the better end of the stick.”

Louis laughed at his own joke nervously and the corners of Harry's mouth twitched up, but he couldn't find it in himself to fully appreciate the humor at the moment.

“I'm sorry you're stressed,” he sighed.

“It's not you,” Louis said, though Harry had thought that to already be proven false.

“Do you think you need to talk to your therapist again?” the dancer suggested, fearing that Louis would get mad, but instead, he said,

“I'll probably call him tomorrow and set something up, just to get back on track.”

Harry let out a breath of relief, though at the same time, Louis's simple agreement made him feel guilty. _That_ was how normal people reacted when you suggest they get help for something they had a problem with. They didn't get mad and yell or push people away. They didn't threaten to leave…

Louis may need help to get himself 'back on track' sometimes, but he was still what Harry had always striven to be; strong and normal.

“You still look pale,” Harry noted, stroking Louis's cheek with his thumb.

“I'm a little weak,” Louis admitted, “but once I eat something, I'll be fine. Beatrice already assured me that they're putting a stool next to me onstage tonight.”

“Good,” Harry said, returning Louis's smile a little bit. “Now let's go get you some food, yeah?”

“Yeah. Hey, we took that cheesecake onto the bus, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really like leaving the chapter like this, but I hate not having an update out even more. I hope this isn't too disappointing! Like I said in the beginning notes, I'll have the remainder of this chapter up on Tuesday. I am really, really sorry :(


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the rest of the part that should have been posted last Tuesday...heh...

***Niall***

 _Niall groaned loudly as a rap on the door pulled him from his state of half sleep._ _Groaning turned_ _out to be a bad idea, as it hurt both his throat and his head, but who could seriously be visiting right now? His room mate was in class, and his friends should have been as well; either that or hung over. Niall's mates had all been informed earlier that he was sick and they knew to steer clear when the man wasn't feeling well. Usually, Niall was a chipper little ball of Irish sunshine, which he prided himself on, but he wasn't too proud to admit that he didn't handle illness well at all. He wouldn't have been surprised, actually, if this cold he was suffering from would end up being the death of him._

 _It was tempting to keep laying on the couch where he'd collapsed, too dizzy to get to his bed, but Niall greatly feared that another knock would be enough to send him over the edge, so after taking as deep a breath as he could without sending himself into a hacking mess, he swung_ _off_ _from the sofa and walked to the door, making sure it was clear on his face how annoyed he was to be disturbed._

 _As soon as he opened that door, though, th_ _e_ _look faded and something that he never thought possible in his current situation happened; he smiled._

_“Oh, hey, Liam!” Niall greeted, running a hand through the rat's nest he liked to call hair and sniffling._

_“Hi!” Liam said back. “I heard you were sick, so...uh...Sorry if this is like, weird, but I brought cold_ _and flu_ _medicine and soup...and notes from today's_ _dance history_ _class because there are rumors of a pop quiz on Monday.”_

_Niall groaned, which sent him into a mild coughing fit, and once he'd composed himself and blinked the moisture away from his eyes, he saw pity on Liam's face. Or was that disgust? Probably disgust._

_“You really didn't have to do this,” Niall said. “I appreciate it, but I don't want you to get sick.”_

_“I'm okay with getting sick,” Liam said. “Then I can miss the pop quiz on Monday.”_

_“Oh, those were your true intentions all along, weren't they?” Niall teased, somehow managing to smile again as he leaned against the door frame._

_“You caught me,” Liam said, winking. Well, Niall supposed it was supposed to be a wink, but it was more like a rough blink. Whatever it was, though, it was very cute._

_“Well come in then, if you'd like,” Niall allowed, gesturing to the inside of his dormitory. “I'll be sure to not cover my mouth.”_

_“Thank you. It's much appreciated,” Liam said, stepping in with a paper bag in his hands and his book bag on his back. “I don't know if you're hungry or not, so where would you like me to put the soup? Do you even like chicken noodle soup?”_

_“I do,” Niall said, his stomach growling at the thought. He hadn't eaten all day, but not because he hadn't wanted to. He'd simply been too lazy to get up. Besides, being hungry gave him another reason to feel sorry for himself. “_ _I'll take that actually, thank you. Thanks so much. I don't think I actually thanked you yet, so thank you.”_

_Liam laughed, raising one eyebrow._

_“You're definitely feverish, aren't you?”_

_“I don't know,” Niall admitted. “Probably.”_

_Liam rested the back of his hand across Niall's forehead and nodded._

_“Definitely feverish,” he said. “Have you taken anything?”_

_“Not yet. That would have required me leaving to get medicine.”_

_“Well, here,” Liam said, handing the paper bag to Niall so that he could reach into his backpack and pull out a new bottle of medicine._

_“You're an angel,” Niall breathed, setting the bag on the nearby table and taking the medicine from him._

_“Hardly,” Liam laughed. Niall disagreed, but only silently, as he filled a cup of water and took his medicine. Then, he got to work on the soup._

_“Are you hungry?” he asked after taking a few bites and then realizing that Liam was still standing a bit away, staring at him. “We have food here. I was just too lazy to get up, but make whatever you want.”_

_“Oh, no, I'm okay,” Liam said._

_“Well...you can at least sit down,” Niall offered next. Liam accepted that one._

_It was quiet while Niall ate, but Niall didn't think the silence was awkward and, besides, it didn't take him long to eat. Once he was done, he cleaned up halfway and then sat back down at the table to copy Liam's notes._

_“Can you read my handwriting?” the other asked. “It's pretty sloppy, I know.”_

_“I can read it,” Niall assured him._

_“I also can't spell,” Liam added._

_“There haven't been any mistakes yet.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Really.”_

_“Amazing.”_

_Mere seconds later, Niall found his first mistake and, before he could stop himself, he let out a small snort. He wiped his nose and tried to hide it, but he failed._

_“What's so funny?” Liam asked, smiling and glancing down at his notes briefly, as if the answer would have been shouting out at him._

_“Nothing,” Niall said, letting out a small cough._

_“Tell me,” Liam persisted. “What did I do?”_

_“You just...you spelled ballet wrong. It's not a big deal. I'm sure a lot of people get confused on that word, I just found it funny because we're majoring in dance and...It's actually not that funny. I'm sorry. Forgive me, I've got a fever.”_

_Niall had been worried of offending Liam, but the other student chuckled._

_“It's two t's, right?” he asked._

_“One t. Two 'l's,” Niall explained._

_“Isn't that what I put?!”_

_“Well...you put two 'l's. You just added the extra t.”_

_“Damn it!”_

_“It's alright,” Niall assured him._

_“Who would have known being a dance major would require so much actual school work?”_

_“It is kind of dumb,” Niall said, even though he understood the reasoning behind it._

_As Niall continued to write, Liam received text message after text message. He sighed almost every time his phone went off, and Niall at first thought he was getting annoyed with whoever was sending him messages but then feared it was actually him with whom Liam was frustrated with._

_“Shit, do you have to be somewhere?” he asked, writing quicker than before. “I can finish these later, or not at all. It's really fine. I don't want to hold you up.”_

_“No, no,” Liam assured Niall quickly. “It's just this bloke...he won't take no for an answer with his sexting shit. I don't know how else to politely tell him that I don't want to imagine his tiny penis hardening in my mouth right now.”_

_Niall choked on his spit, and it took a while to compose himself. Liam had refilled his water glass and patted him on the back for a good while before he succeeded._

_“I think at this point you don't have to worry about being nice,” Niall said once he was physically able to, though his voice was noticeably damaged. “I'm sure telling him that his penis is small will get him to stop texting you pretty quickly._ _Or you could, I don't know, maybe not reply?”_

_“Oh, no,” Liam said, shaking his head as he returned to his seat, confident that Niall wasn't going to die at that very moment. “If I stop texting him, the pictures will begin.”_

_“That's okay,” Niall said. “I kind of want to see how small this guy is now.”_

_“That's rude,” Liam said, but he was clearly joking, as his blink-wink showed. Niall didn't say so, but he already knew that he could be a bit rude when he was jealous._

 

_It didn't take long for Niall to finish copying Liam's notes and then, as Liam had nowhere to be and said that he was perfectly okay with staying around the germs for a little while longer, the two began playing video games. The medicine had actually done wonders for Niall and he felt alive as they played Mario Kart, moving his entire body with his car on the screen. Liam giggled at him, but he wasn't much less embarrassing, squealing indignantly whenever he slipped on one of Niall's banana peels, which was more than on_ _c_ _e._

_Before they knew it, nearly two hours had passed and Adam, Niall's dorm mate, returned from his last class._

_“Hey, Ni, how are you feeling?” Adam asked, but Niall barely had time to tell him that he was okay before_ _Adam_ _said, “Hi, Li, what's up?”_

_“Not much,” Liam said, setting down his remote as he crossed the finish line._

_“How late are you staying tonight?” Adam continued. “We can order pizza and then go and study for our exam together.”_

_Niall wasn't so naive as to think that Adam actually wanted Liam to study with him, and he fought rolling his eyes. Liam gave a small laugh, rising to his feet and wiping his palms on his jeans._

_“I actually should get going,” he said. “I promised my dorm mate I'd cook tonight and he's already pissed at me, so….”_

_Trailing off, Liam looked at Niall and smiled._

_“I hope you feel better soon.”_

_“Thanks,” Niall said, returning the smile, even though it was a little hard now that he knew Liam was leaving. “I'll see you in class on Monday unless you're too sick to come.”_

_“No offense to you, but I hope I am,” Liam said. “See you soon though. Bye, Adam.”_

_“Later.”_

_As Liam let himself out, Adam watched him go, biting his lip as his eyes focused on what Niall believed to be Liam's butt._

_“Damn!” he said as soon as the door was shut. “He's so fucking hot when he plays hard to get.”_

_Turning to Niall, Adam asked,_

_“Have you let him suck you off yet? I'm not usually one to be all sappy and shit, but that tongue is like magic, I swear.”_

_Niall vowed to himself to not do Adam's laundry for a week._

 

Liam had always been one to take care of others, Niall knew. He liked to play tough, and rarely let others take care of him, but if someone needed something, he was there. Sometimes, even if they didn't need anything, he was there, as was true that night.

After Louis's fainting spell in the dressing room, Harry was understandably over-attentive, but so was Liam. He made sure Louis had water by him at all times and that he ate a good meal, and then a snack before going onstage.

Once the show was over, Liam skipped hugging Niall right away, like he usually did, to make a beeline to Louis.

“How are you?” he asked, keeping his hands on the singer's shoulders as he studied his face carefully. Louis smiled.

“I'm good, Liam, honest,” Louis said, patting Liam on the head and then turning to give his boyfriend a kiss on the cheek.

“You need rest,” Liam decided. “How about we just go to the buses?”

He formed it as a question, but Niall had a feeling that he wouldn't have taken no for an answer. Luckily, Louis didn't test that theory, and the four of them, along with Zayn, headed to the singer's bus. Louis went to the bathroom and cleaned up, and then Liam was leading him to his bed, fluffing his pillows and patting the sheets down around him. Niall's smile threatened to split his face. He'd thought so for awhile, but these actions pretty much confirmed that Liam was the cutest person ever.

“Thank you, mummy,” Louis said after Liam had set a bottle of water beside him.

“You are welcome,” Liam said.

“Oh, hey,” Louis spoke up, half sitting but then being pushed back onto his pillows lightly. He continued on as if nothing had happened. “Speaking of mums, Dean managed to get yours on the same flight as the rest of your family. I think he e-mailed her the details, but I'll double check.”

At the mention of Liam's mother, Niall's head, along with Zayn's and Harry's, snapped to the man, who Niall thought was purposely ignoring them.

“That's great, thanks,” he said.

“No problem,” Louis told him. “I can't wait to meet them.”

“Yes, well, right now you should sleep,” Liam decided. “Actually, you need to eat something first. What sounds good?”

“I'm just going to sleep,” Louis announced, and then laughed when Liam narrowed his eyes. “I'm super tired, Li. I'll eat when I wake up.”

“Fine,” Liam agreed reluctantly. “Harry, you should eat.”

“I will soon,” Harry said, and Liam sighed, throwing his hands up in the air.

“You two are going to turn me gray!”

Harry and Louis flashed smiles at each other but then, as they both did look exhausted, Niall, Liam and Zayn went to their own bus. As soon as they stepped foot onto it, Zayn turned quickly to Liam.

“Your mum is coming?! Like, your actual mum who you were just stressed over a simple Facebook message from?!”

“Yes,” Liam said, not looking in Zayn's eyes and digging his nails into his arm from behind his back. Niall gently put his arms to his side and held onto the offending hand.

“Why…?” Zayn asked, looking at Liam like he had a few marbles missing.

“She wanted to,” Liam said. “And I haven't seen her in forever so maybe she's changed?”

Zayn pursed his lips, but Niall spoke up before he could reply.

“I think this is something that you need to do, Liam,” he said. “I hope it goes well, but if not, you know you have us to fall back on.”

“Well, yeah, of course,” Zayn said, and, again, Niall cut him off before he could get to his 'but.'

“I'm proud of you,” he said, kissing Liam's cheek. Liam smiled.

“Thank you,” he said. “I'm going to go rinse off.”

Zayn and Niall watched him grab spare clothes from the bunk area before heading to the bathroom and then, once the shower water turned on, Zayn whipped his head around again to look at Niall.

“This is a terrible idea,” he said.

“Probably,” Niall agreed, because while he rewarded himself on being an optimist, he had a terrible feeling about this deep in his gut which he knew it would be pointless to even try to shake, “but put yourself in his place. He hasn't seen his mum since he was fifteen and things ended rather...abruptly. I don't think he got closure, so in the least, maybe he can finally get that from this.”

“You know him better than I do,” Zayn said with a shrug. “All I'm saying is don't be surprised if we get drunk, moody, sex-addicted Liam back after this.”

Niall sighed, knowing there was a high chance that would indeed happen. Still, there was a possibility that it wouldn't, and on the off chance that this would help Liam heal, Niall would be grateful. Even if it came down to the worst, though, Niall would be there for him, and he would take care of Liam whether he liked it or not because that was what he needed.

***Louis***

“Are you sure you're okay?”

Harry had asked that question countless times in the past few hours and Louis thought he might be starting to get mildly frustrated with it if he hadn't known the fear that came with thinking something was wrong with a loved one. Besides, Harry was currently massaging Louis's scalp, which felt amazing, so he couldn't feel any negative emotions at all.

“I'm really good,” he assured Harry for the umpteenth time, his words slurred and his eyes rolling back, but only from how relaxed he was. He felt Harry kiss him on the forehead and opened his eyes again to smile at him.

“You're not usually this tired after shows,” Harry noted.

“I still fainted, even if I'm okay,” Louis said. “I'm just tired from that. By morning I'll be good as new.”

Harry hummed a noncommittal response and then kissed Louis's lips.

“I'm going to clean off and then I'll be back.”

“Okay. Love you.”

“And I love you.”

Louis smiled to himself as he watched Harry walk to the bathroom and then he closed his eyes, though he thought his smile stayed for a while.

He was half out of it by the time Harry returned, but he came back to when the dancer climbed next to him.

“Sorry,” Harry whispered, leaning over Louis to flip off the light beside of him. Louis sighed, content, and then moved closer to Harry, kissing all over his face in the dark until he found his lips and then giggling when he succeeded. Harry even laughed a bit too.

“You're cute,” the younger man said.

“You're cute,” Louis replied.

“Go to sleep,” Harry said.

“So demanding,” Louis told him, and then yawned.

“If you don't go to sleep, I'm going to ask you if you're alright again.”

“Okay, good night,” Louis said, and then laughed. Again, Harry giggled.

“I do believe you're getting delirious, love.”

“Harry, you're shaking,” Louis said, because he'd just noticed that he was. He wasn't shaking badly, but, with one arm across Harry's waist and a hand on his chest, Louis could feel it.

“I'm just cold,” Harry said,

“It's not really cold in here,” Louis said. “Are you sure you're alright now?”

“Mhm,” Harry said, resting one leg over Louis's for only an instant. “I get cold easily.”

“I'm not sure you're telling me the truth,” Louis admitted.

“I love you. I wouldn't lie to you.”

Louis didn't doubt that Harry loved him, but he was unsure about the part where he'd claimed he wouldn't lie to him. Harry may not view them as lies, because Louis was sure that, about most things, Harry would always tell the truth, but, as he'd known for a while, Harry was a complicated man and his disorder often blurred the lines of what was honest or not.

Still, Louis didn't have the energy to bring that up right then, and he doubted Harry would have the energy to argue about it anyway, thus potentially causing an argument that neither could tolerate. So he pulled Harry's blankets further up the dancer's body and told him he loved him one last time before he drifted off.

 

As Louis had promised his boyfriend, he called his psychologist the next day. They didn't have time to discuss much, but Louis made an appointment for a phone interview in a couple days' time. He would be fine until then, he knew. He recognized that his behavior the past few days had been problematic and so now he was going to correct it.

Though it hadn't been Louis's intentions at all to do as Harry had theorized and starve himself in a desperate attempt to get Harry to eat, Louis noticed that Harry was eating more that day and only because he felt too hypocritical to ask Louis to do it alone. Louis felt a little bad because he knew this wasn't curing Harry's disorder. In fact, it was probably stressing him out more, but the joy Louis felt when he saw Harry making them both lunch and taking a bite first was indescribable.

There wasn't a show that night and they were on the road for most of the day, so Harry made sure that Louis relaxed. It was all unnecessary, as Louis felt completely normal, but he wasn't going to complain about a movie marathon with his boyfriend as they cuddled on the bus's couch.

 

Louis supposed he should have known that Beatrice would tell his mom about his incident, but that didn't stop him from feeling a pang of anger at the woman when Jay called him later about to lose her mind.

“That's it, I'm coming on the road with you,” she said, despite that Louis had already assured her three times that he was alright and taking much better care of himself today.

“Mum, don't,” Louis said. “You know I'd love to have you out with me, but you have a life. You won't be happy on the road.”

“I'm not happy with you being so far away from me while you're sick.”

“I'm not sick.”

“I need to know you're okay, Lou.”

“I'm more than okay,” Louis told her. After a pause, Jay said,

“Honey, I heard about Harry's eating disorder...”

“Almost everybody did,” Louis pointed out.

“That's not why you've been cutting back, is it?”

“No!” Louis exclaimed, offended that she would even try blaming Harry for this, which maybe wasn't even what she was doing, but it sure felt like it.

“Is it Dean then?” she asked, more harshly. “I know he likes to pressure you to do those shirtless photos and whatnot.”

“No, mother,” Louis sighed. “It's nothing like that. I wasn't trying to do anything. I just...forgot that eating is something that I need to do.”

The singer thought that everyone was blowing the whole thing way out of proportion and found it infuriating that after just one small incident, he was being treated like he was dying or something close to it, but that Harry, who had suffered from an actual problem for more than ten years, was barely acknowledged with it. Even now that he'd admitted it to basically the entire world, most people didn't seem too worried about it. They said that he was strong and brave and that they had his support, but it was almost like they idolized him now. To them, this deadly disorder made him interesting and poetic. Louis was sure that wasn't true for all, but it was enough to drive him crazy.

“I worry about you, Louis,” Jay sighed.

“Of course you do. You're my mum,” Louis said nonchalantly. “I'm okay, though. I promise. I'll take better care of myself, and Harry has been taking care of me too. He's amazing.”

“He's a sweet boy,” Jay agreed. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make it sound like I think he caused this. You know I just have control issues and I can't stand that everyone knows what's going on with you before I do.”

“Next time I faint, I'll be sure to call you first thing after I wake.”

“There better not be a next time.”

Louis laughed at the sternness in the woman's voice.

“I love you, mum.”

“You know I love you too.”

 

When Louis walked back from the bedroom area, where he'd been talking to his mother, Harry looked up at him, his green eyes wide with worry.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Louis said. “Just my mum being a mum.”

“She has reason to worry, you know,” Harry said, putting his arm around Louis as the singer settled back next to him on the couch.

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis said. “Love, you're shaking again.”

“I'm okay,” Harry said, laying his head on top of Louis's.

“Let me get you a blanket.”

“Just stay here. I'm comfortable.”

“But you're shaking.”

“I'm fine.”

Louis held in a sigh, but dropped the subject against his better judgment. He wondered how many times the two of them would have to assure they were fine for their peace of mind, and how many times it would actually be true.

Checking the clock on the wall subtly, Louis saw that it was just a bit after two. Good. Dinner was a while away. Louis was glad because he knew he wouldn't be hungry for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the way this ended, I just find it necessary to assure you all that Louis is notgoing to develop an eating disorder! Sorry if that counts as a 'spoiler alert' but I don't want some to get turned off thinking that is where this is headed. It isn't, I promise! 
> 
> The next full chapter will be up on Thursday! :)


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, it's not Thursday, but my body decided it was going to get really sick again so here I am, late again. Thank you all so much for being patient with me XD

***Harry***

“Harry, my love, we have a problem.”

At the sound of Louis's voice, Harry jumped and turned quickly away from the mirror in which he had been studying, in disdain, the suit that, despite being close to his measurements, didn't fit quite right.

“What is the problem, dear?” Harry asked as his boyfriend rounded the corner away from the changing area and approached him.

“Janice just informed me that red and black have been very popular color schemes for the award show this year. We may have to change our plans.”

“Damn,” Harry sighed. “That shirt wears you well.”

Harry winked and Louis smiled.

“I really like your outfit as well,” the singer said, nodding towards Harry. “I don't want to wear what everyone else is wearing though.”

“No, I totally agree,” Harry said. “You've always been one to do your own thing and I love that about you.”

Louis smiled even wider, then took the last few steps closer to Harry to be able to kiss him.

“Any other suggestions then?” he asked, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist. From a few feet away, Janice, the lovely woman who worked in the shop that was clothing Louis and Harry for Louis's award show, free of charge, smiled to herself and turned her body, attempting to look busy. It didn't bother Harry, though; quite the opposite, actually. While being so close to Louis's fame was a weird thing to adjust to, Harry liked when Louis made it known that he was his publicly, just like when he introduced Harry as his boyfriend to all of his famous friends at Ed's party.

“How about a basic, but classy, black and white?” Harry suggested.

“I like it,” Louis said immediately.

“Do you really, or were you prepared to agree to anything I said?” Harry questioned.

“Both,” the other answered, standing on his tip toes to place a quick kiss to Harry's lips before turning away.

“Janice!” he called. “We've decided to change to black and white, please!”

 

A little more than an hour later, Louis and Harry were putting their final orders in and then leaving the shop, heading back to Louis's California home for the night. In the morning, they would take a private plane to Vegas for Louis's next show.

Over two weeks had passed since the terrifying moment where Louis fainted backstage. He had seemed fine since then. Harry knew he'd had a couple phone sessions with his psychologist and he'd gone back to eating like a normal person instead of like Harry after a day or so of struggling with it. Harry supposed he was almost healed from it as well, though couldn't deny that he was still a bit traumatized.

That was why it frightened him a bit when, after using the toilet, he entered the bedroom to find Louis in front of his mirror, checking himself out from different angles and tugging on his clothes. It was a scene that looked all too familiar to the dancer, though it hurt more seeing Louis frown at his reflection in the mirror than it did for Harry to be faced with his own many flaws.

“Lou, what are you doing?” he asked, trying not to sound too stern but making his disapproval known. Louis moved his eyes to focus on Harry behind him and he smiled innocently.

“Nothing,” he said.

“Liar,” Harry replied, walking over to put his arms around Louis's shoulders and kiss his cheek. His reflection smiled, but Harry wasn't letting him get off that easily; not this time.

“If I looked like you, I wouldn't have been making that face at my reflection,” the dancer spoke.

“No, actually, I was just wondering…,” Louis began, and then trailed off. Harry raised an eyebrow, but Louis didn't continue. He looked nervous and turned in Harry's arms to kiss him.

“Never mind,” he said. “Hey, are you up for some personal exercises? I can't stop thinking about you in that red tie.”

“Tell me what you were wondering first,” Harry said, not allowing himself to remember how Louis had looked in that red shirt because then he knew all resolve would be out the window. Louis frowned.

“I was just wondering…,” he said, and again trailed off.

“Go on,” Harry urged. Louis sighed once more.

“I was wondering how you see other people.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you look in the mirror, you obviously don't see yourself accurately. It's like, I don't know...It seems like you see yourself through a fun house mirror or something. Is that how you see everyone else too?”

“No,” Harry said. “I see everyone else normally, at least I think I do. I know I see you as you are. You're beautiful. Don't ever believe I think of you otherwise, okay?”

“Okay,” Louis said, the corners of his mouth twitching up. Harry kissed them.

“I love you. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I'm good.”

Louis made sure to smile wider as he answered, but only briefly.

“I just wish you could see yourself normally too.”

“Maybe that's not important,” Harry said, and he was quoting his psychologist, but Louis never had to know that. “Maybe I just need to accept myself how I am.”

“That's the most important thing, of course,” Louis said, smacking Harry's bottom lightly before poking him in the cheek.

“Do you at least see that your dimples are gorgeous?” he asked then.

“My dimples are good, I guess,” Harry said. “But my mouth is kind of wide.”

“Oh, hush,” Louis laughed, standing on his tiptoes to kiss Harry again. “I like your mouth.”

The singer wiggled his eyebrows and Harry couldn't help but to laugh.

“Dimples!” Louis announced excitedly, his finger tracing Harry's jawline.

“You are sometimes ridiculous,” Harry told the man lovingly. Louis simply smiled and then pulled gently away from Harry to collapse on his stomach onto the bed.

“Jet lag,” he sighed.

“Nap time then?” Harry asked, laying on his back next to Louis. The singer turned his head and smiled, then sat just enough to give his boyfriend yet another kiss.

“Maybe in a minute,” he said. “How did your session with Dr. Parks go this morning?”

“Fine,” Harry told Louis, who hadn't had a chance to ask him once Harry and the professional had disconnected that morning. They'd been running late for their fitting as it was, and Dean kept Louis on the phone all the way to the shop, assuring him that Josiah would soon announce his relationship with a woman and deny the lasting rumors that he was reconciling secretly with Louis.

“'Fine',” Louis repeated with a sigh. “That's what you always say and I never quite know whether I should believe it or not.”

“He wants to put me on a different anti-depressant,” Harry said. “He doesn't think this one is doing all that much.”

“Well, love, I kind of agree,” Louis said gently.

“Yeah, but I don't know if another would be worth it.”

“How do you mean?”

“This one doesn't really have any side effects. Others can cause weight gain, drowsiness or something else unpleasant.”

“Then I'm sure he'll try another one until he finds one that you like.”

“I can't be testing all of these out on tour,” Harry pointed out. “I know I'm supposed to be gaining a certain amount of weight, but not as much as some might put on me, and if they make me tired, I can't really dance well.”

“Harry, this is your life,” Louis said. “If there's a chance for you to be happier, I want you to take it. Everything else we can deal with easily.”

“You make me happy,” Harry said, nibbling on Louis's neck. The singer giggled but gently pushed Harry off of him, not allowing him to change the subject.

“You're free to make your own decision, obviously, but I think you should try what the doctor is suggesting.”

“Fine,” Harry said, knowing he probably would. If he decided differently, he could always try to pretend that his current medication was working better than it actually would. He had slacked on the 'faking it' thing for a while, but he was sure it wouldn't be too hard to get back into that mindset. He'd done it for about ten years.

“Thank you,” Louis said, rewarding Harry with a peck on the lips and then crawling on top of him. Harry must not have been too depressed or starved because his body reacted positively right away.

“Nap time exercises?” the singer asked, gently moving his hips back and forth.

“The best kind of anti-depressant,” Harry said, slipping his hands underneath Louis's shirt and feeling the toned stomach beneath before helping him to remove the article of clothing.

***Niall***

“Wait, which flavor should I get? Chocolate or vanilla?”

“I thought we'd already decided on vanilla.”

“Yes, but some people really love chocolate, Zayn!”

“Yeah, but some people really don't. Have you ever actively seen Liam eat chocolate?”

“I think so,” Niall said, his eyebrows pulling together in concentration. He couldn't believe that he'd been in love with Liam for months and didn't even know if he liked chocolate or not. The chocolate cheesecake didn't count, of course, as that had been nearly impossibly scrumptious. 

“Chocolate cake is still different from most chocolate. I say go with vanilla,” Zayn insisted.

“Okay,” Niall said, though he was nervous as he picked up the white cake. He supposed that, since Liam's birthday wasn't until tomorrow, he could always get him a chocolate cake if he found out that he didn't like the vanilla.

Liam and Niall were planning on going out after the show the next night, naturally, but Niall had decided at the early hour of three o' clock in the morning, when he woke due to Liam rolling over and smacking him in the face, that he wanted to make the day before the man's birthday special since his actual birthday would mostly be spent working. He'd been so excited afterward that he could barely sleep and so, at five o' clock, he pulled himself out of bed and began planning out details like…

Well, mainly the flavor of cake. Niall had been stuck on that debate for an indecent amount of time.

When Zayn and Niall arrived back at the hotel, Louis and Harry had just gotten there as well, and the singer smiled widely when he saw the two entering with the dessert.

“What are we celebrating?” Louis asked, thanking the lady at the front desk as he took his room keys and headed over, Harry following close behind.

“Liam's birthday,” Niall answered. The singer's eyes widened.

“I didn't know it was his birthday!”

“Technically, it's tomorrow,” Niall said.

“That looks amazing,” Louis said after getting a good look at the cake.

“Do you think vanilla was a good choice?” Niall asked. “I was stuck between that and chocolate.”

“Vanilla cake is definitely better,” Louis replied, and Niall sighed in relief. From beside him, he heard Zayn sniffle, trying and failing to hide a giggle.

“You lot can come out with us tonight if you want,” Niall offered. “I don't know where we're going, but I'm sure Liam will come up with something crazy.”

“That sounds fun,” Louis said, but turned to Harry before making any permanent commitment. “What do you say, love?”

“Yeah, of course,” Harry said, giving a small smile. Louis kissed him on the cheek.

“Just let us know the plan, yeah?”

“I'll text you.”

“Aces. See you all later then.”

The four exchanged their goodbyes and then went their separate ways. Liam was just starting to stir when Niall entered the bedroom, and he blinked his eyes open as the blonde made room on the desk and then set the cake down.

“Breakfast?” he asked, his voice groggy as he rubbed his eyes.

“Not quite,” Niall said. “Birthday cake.”

“My birthday isn't until tomorrow.”

“I know, but we have the show, so it's not like we'll have all day to celebrate. Today is yours.”

Liam smiled as he sat up, stretching his arms out in front of him and making small dinosaur noises. Then he flung his legs off of the bed and walked over to check out the cake.

“Ooh, vanilla; the best,” he said before giving Niall a kiss on the cheek and then heading into the bathroom. Niall did cartwheels inside of his head.

 

Niall and Liam grabbed breakfast at the restaurant inside of the hotel. They were rumored to serve the largest pancakes in the state, and Niall believed it because their pancakes went over all edges of the plate.

After that, they spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon in the hotel's casino. Zayn, Tina and Fergus joined them for a bit and then they all parted to grab something for lunch. Louis and Harry would be joining for dinner and whatever shenanigans they got into afterward, Louis assured them.

Niall had told everyone joining that night to meet them at his and Liam's room at five o' clock to head out, but just after four, there was a knock on the door. When Niall answered, he saw Louis standing there with two bottles of alcohol; one in each hand. Harry, of course, stood close by.

“Hello!” Louis said. “Sorry, I know it's early, but I just came to drop off these. Since Liam isn't technically allowed to drink in the states until midnight, I thought he might like to get some pre-partying in.”

“Fuck, I didn't even think about that,” Liam said, coming around the corner and accepting the bottles from the singer. “You're joining me, right? I don't want to get completely trashed.”

“You don't?” Louis asked in mock surprise, stepping inside of the room as Niall moved back to allow him to do so. He closed the door once Harry had entered as well.

“No, that's for tomorrow night, when we don't have a show the next day.”

“Smart,” Louis complimented. “For charity's sake, I'll have a glass. Harry?”

“Okay.”

“Niall?”

“Sure.”

“We need to text everyone else and get them up here,” Liam said.

“Shall we move this to my room?” Louis asked. “It fits more people.”

The others agreed, so Liam and Niall changed into their party outfits and then ventured up to the singer's suite. Zayn was already there when they arrived and Harry assured them that the others were on their way.

“You get first sip, Payno,” Louis said, handing over the glass of champagne he'd poured his dancer. Liam didn't hesitate, though his drink was much more than a sip.

 _Not get trashed, my ass_ , Niall thought to himself, but he smiled at the way Liam's eyes lit up with joy. He'd been sober a lot more than not recently and Niall was confident that he was getting over whatever issue he'd had with it before. He had faith that the man could use it as recreation and not a coping mechanism now.

“Good?” Louis asked, looking genuinely worried over it.

“Fantastic,” Liam assured him.

 

Liam was a bit buzzed as the group headed out for dinner, but no one would really be able to tell except for the fact that he was extremely giggly. Niall, of course, loved it and did whatever he could to keep Liam laughing until he got the hiccups.

“Shit, I forgot the cake,” Niall announced once they reached the steak house.

“That's okay,” Liam told him, patting the dancer on the head. “That just means more partying when we get back to the hotel!”

Though Niall tried not to make it obvious, he paid close attention to what Harry ordered and then what he ate. He'd gotten chicken and a side salad and ate about half of both of them, which wasn't a lot, but as long as he was trying, Niall figured it was progress. Multiple times throughout the meal, Louis would take a moment to rub Harry's back or whisper something in his ear, making his boyfriend smile each time. Niall would smile to himself then, remembering when he and Liam conspired about what a cute couple the two would be long before they were anything. They hadn't been wrong.

“Hey, can we go to Paris?” Liam asked after their dinner plates had been taken away and everyone was taking care of their bills. Niall, naturally, was footing Liam's, and Liam promised to do the same for him on his own birthday in a couple of weeks.

“I assume you're talking about the Paris in Vegas?” Louis verified.

“Well, yeah,” Liam said, and giggled. Louis smiled.

“We're doing whatever you want tonight,” he said.

“Yay!” Liam said, and then turned to Niall. “We're going to Paris!”

“That's exciting,” Niall said, smiling at his clearly excited lover.

“Ooh,” Liam said multiple times once they'd entered the Paris hotel and saw the Eiffel Tower replica inside. “Hey, when we go to actual Paris, we can eat on the top!”

“We can,” Niall agreed.

“Hey, Liam, maybe you should kiss him under the tower,” Louis suggested, and Niall was about to make a comment about how that was not going to happen when Liam took his hand and ran to stand directly underneath it, almost knocking into a few people on the way. Niall apologized for him, but couldn't find it in himself to actually feel too sorry.

“Is this good?” Liam asked when he noticed Louis with his phone ready to take a picture.

“Perfect!” Louis called. With his arms around Niall's waist, Liam pulled him closer and Niall wrapped his arms around the other man's neck as he dipped his head and placed a big kiss to his lips.

“Perfect!” Louis said again after taking the picture, but Liam didn't stop. He continued kissing Niall, slipping in some tongue and somehow pulling him even closer. Their friends whooped and hollered until a good minute had passed and then Zayn said,

“Alright, that's enough, you two. We just ate.”

 

They stayed in Paris for a while and then, once it neared midnight, they went to a nearby bar so that Liam could order a drink as soon as the clocks changed. Niall thought it would be anti-climactic since Liam had been allowed to drink pretty much everywhere else for a while now, but he'd still seemed excited and ordered another of the same kind right away, then claimed that drink was the best he'd ever ordered himself.

“To be fair, I don't think you order yourself drinks very often,” Harry teased with a wink. Liam thought that was hilarious and he hugged Harry.

 

Everyone went back to Louis's hotel room for a piece of cake after they left the bar and then they all said goodbye, Niall and Liam included as the birthday boy seemed to be growing sleepy and Niall still had one more thing planned for that night.

Niall didn't usually change in front of Liam, not because he was embarrassed or anything, but just because he didn't want to be a tease when he knew that Liam was just waiting for the day when things went further, but that night, he stripped down to his underwear somewhat seductively as Liam ate another piece of cake in his own boxers and watched. Once Niall had kicked his pants a few feet away, he ran a nervous and excited hand through his hair and then crawled onto the bed, kissing Liam, who hummed in appreciation and moved his nearly empty plate to the nightstand without breaking contact.

As Liam fell backwards, Niall fell with him, still kissing and massaging Liam's upper thigh. Once he reached high enough, Liam jumped, biting Niall's lip a little harder than probably intended.

“Sorry,” he whispered, pulling away, “but you're mean.”

“How am I mean?” Niall asked, a slight smirk on his face.

“You know what you're doing,” Liam accused, the corners of his lips turned upwards, showing that he wasn't actually angry.

“You don't like foreplay?” Niall asked.

“Not if it's not going anywhere,” Liam said.

“Who said it's not?” Niall replied, kissing Liam's lips and then sucking on his neck briefly. The small gasp and moan he made was the hottest thing that Niall had experienced in his life.

“You're sure?” Liam asked, his fingernails running up and down Niall's back gently.

“Completely,” Niall assured him, “as long as you want to.”

“Is that a serious question?” Liam teased and then leaned up to kiss Niall as well as pull his body further on top of his.

“I L-word you,” Niall said.

“You're beautiful,” Liam replied, and Niall thought that worked just as well.


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot woot! I'm on time!
> 
> Also, I forgot to put this note in the last chapter, but I accidentally said in recent notes that Louis was developing an eating disorder when I meant that he was NOT. I just wanted to clarify that XD Thank you to the reader who pointed out that awful mistake and sorry for any confusion I caused with my inability to accurately proof read! Again, Louis will NOT be developing an eating disorder.

***Liam***

Liam was never the type for post-sex cuddles. When he finished with his men, he was either out of the bed in a minute or less, or passed out from intoxication.

It was different with Niall. Of course, everything was different with Niall, so Liam wasn't really surprised, but he was taken aback to find how good it felt to stay in bed, drowsy but awake, with the other man tucked under his arm as the two breathed in synch with each other, Niall's finger gliding gently across Liam's stomach as he every now and then pressed a kiss into his side.

Though his first instinct once both had finished was to get up and go do something-run to the bathroom or go out to the balcony and smoke-Liam didn't want to leave Niall's side. It was he who pulled Niall down on top of him, kissing his lips one more time before getting him snug next to him, because he didn't expect himself to stay, as much as he wanted to. There was no way that he would leave Niall for good like he did all of the others. He wouldn't delete his number and pretend he never existed as best he could in their situation. If Liam got up, he knew he would return again, but he feared that if he left the bed so soon after their love making ended, then the moment would be completely ruined. It wouldn't feel real anymore, at the same time that it felt magical.

With Niall by his side, Liam knew his body wouldn't betray his mind and walk out because his body craved Niall as much as his brain did.

Not a word was said at any point after the pair were done, and before falling asleep, Niall looked up to smile at Liam and give him a tender kiss on the lips. Liam fell asleep not too long after the other, still smiling to himself.

 

Niall and Liam woke at the same time the next morning and blinked at each other sleepily a few times, letting the memories of last night wash over them.

“'Morning,” Niall finally croaked in his just-woke-up voice.

“Good morning,” Liam replied, his voice sounding infinitely worse.

“Happy birthday,” Niall said, despite having already wished him a happy birthday when the clock turned midnight. Liam thanked him anyway and the pair shared a kiss, not caring if they had morning breath or not.

Things were different that morning; that was clear, but not in a bad way. It should have felt bad to Liam, he knew. It should have felt wrong, but he rather enjoyed showering with Niall and brushing their teeth at the same time in the same sink and having Niall walk by him and slap his ass while he was pulling up his trousers. He loved going to breakfast with him that morning and sitting outside listening to the birds and laughing loudly at each other's jokes, and then taking pictures of one another just because they happened to look cute. It felt nice walking down the streets for a bit, holding hands and ducking into various shops to look at one knick-knack or another and then stealing a kiss, often times while the other was in the middle of a sentence, but they never cared.

To anyone else, nothing would probably look out of the ordinary. Liam and Niall had been doing couple-y things despite not being a couple for a while now, but Liam felt the difference and, though he had admittedly been a little worried, even whilst having sex, that they were making a mistake, he knew now that he'd worried for nothing, as he seemed to often do.

Well, Liam thought the change wouldn't be noticeable to anyone else until he and Niall entered the concert venue that night and Zayn quickly greeted with a much too loud,

“Damn, someone got good birthday sex!”

“What the fuck, Zayn?” Liam asked, trying to look chastising instead of smiling like a goon, as was his instinct.

“It's just that I haven't seen you look this relaxed in a while, Li,” Zayn said. “You look brighter; younger even, almost like you got an amazing facial.”

“You're gross!” Niall exclaimed, punching Zayn in the arm, not hard, but meaningfully. The other dancer just laughed.

“Neither of you have denied it!” he pointed out. “Besides, I'm in the room next to you and I totally heard.”

Niall's eyes widened as his cheeks turned a very interesting shade of red, but Liam didn't have enough shame to feel all that embarrassed by it.

 

“Have you two decided where you're going tonight?” Louis asked Niall and Liam once the concert had ended and the sweaty men made their way to the singer's tour bus.

“I don't know,” Niall said, and then turned to Liam. “What do you think, babe?”

“First sex and now pet names?!” Zayn asked, looking rather dramatically surprised. “Why don't you two just go get married?”

“Whoa!” Harry and Louis said at the same time, also throwing their hands up in unison.

“What's this?!” Louis asked.

“None of your business,” Liam said, though the wide smile on his face said it all.

“See? Don't you think it's wedding time?” Zayn asked.

“Not when Liam can't even say the word 'boyfriend,'” Harry said, smiling at Liam so to be sure not to offend. Of course, Liam wasn't going to be offended when Harry was just stating a fact.

“Besides, having a birthday and anniversary on the same day is lame,” Niall spoke. “You'd totally get ripped off on presents.”

“I almost had the audience sing happy birthday to you, Payno,” Louis said then. “I only didn't because I don't want the other dancers to accuse me of having favorites and whatnot, since I totally don't. Well, except for my one favorite.”

Louis and Harry shared a kiss and Zayn rolled his eyes, shooting an 'are you serious' look to Liam and Niall before speaking again.

“Anyway, if you're not going to go get married, what are you two doing tonight?”

Niall looked to Liam for the answer, and Liam knew he should want to go to another bar or casino, or to a nightclub or _something_ for his birthday, but he honestly didn't want to.

“We're in Vegas for another couple of nights,” he rationalized out loud. “We still have a bit of time to explore, so tonight, can we just go back to the hotel?”

“You want to go back to the hotel?” Niall asked, looking surprised but not disapproving.

“If that's okay. We can go out tomorrow and do whatever you want, but tonight feels like a good night to, like...I don't know.”

Liam trailed off, too embarrassed to admit that he'd been visualizing he and Niall curling up with the bottle of wine they'd yet to open in their room and watching a film while kissing and eating cake and then, inevitably, repeating the events from the previous night.

“Do you know how many free drinks you can get tonight?” Zayn asked the birthday man incredulously. “It's your birthday, you're hot and we'll be with Louis! You could literally get free drinks until you pass out, I bet.”

“Yeah, but...I don't want to,” Liam said, because if someone bought him a drink, then he felt he owed them something as well and, honestly, he didn't want anyone's attention that night except for Niall's.

Zayn sighed, shaking his head at their blonde friend.

“Mate, what did your dick do to him?”

 

“This is really what you want to do?” Niall asked, pouring a freshly showered Liam a glass of wine as Liam sat on the bed, eating cake and flipping through the list of movies available for order.

“Positive,” Liam said. “Are you disappointed though? I know we're in Vegas, so we should be out doing things and who knows when we'll be here again...”

“Eh, Vegas is a bit over-rated in my opinion anyway,” Niall said, curling next to Liam with his own glass of wine. “This is perfect.”

Liam couldn't have agreed more, and he couldn't help but to imagine doing this exact same thing months or even a year or more from then with Niall on a couch in their home-their shared home-, perhaps with a dog curled next to their feet.

 

Of course, reality had to hit Liam sooner or later.

“What the fuck, Liam?!”

“Hi to you too, Roo,” Liam answered the girl's call.

“We're on our first layover and guess who the fuck is on the plane ride to Chicago with us?!”

“Who?”

“Your egg donor!”

“Yeah, Roo,” Liam said, speaking slowly. From where he was lying in the bed next to Liam, Niall shot over a curiously concerned glance. “I told you lot that she would be.”

“No, you didn't.”

“Are you sure?” Liam asked, wracking his brain, positive that he had.

“I'm not going to deny that I can sometimes be a bit flighty, but that is definitely something I would have remembered.”

“Oh,” Liam said, running a nervous hand through his hair. “Sorry.”

“So...why is she on this flight, may I ask?”

“She's coming to the show,” Liam reminded her, and his cousin shrieked her surprise so loudly that even Niall jumped.

“I know I told you that!” Liam exclaimed, his fingers twisting around his hair tightly. Ever so gently, Niall unwound them and held his free hand, kissing the top of the skin.

“Like shit you did! Why is she coming?!”

“She wants to.”

“Are you a fucking idiot?!”

“Ruth!” Liam heard Karen scold from the background. “Don't talk to him like that. You're creating a scene. Give me the phone.”

There was a mild scuffle over it, Liam could tell by the rustling in the line, but then he heard his aunt's much softer voice speak to him.

“Liam? Are you there, sweetie?”

“Yeah, I'm here.”

“What's going on?”

“My mum is coming to the Chicago show,” Liam repeated. “Didn't I tell you?”

“No, I'm quite sure you didn't...”

Liam sighed.

“Well, spare calling me a fucking idiot, please. She's already coming.”

“I would never call you that,” the woman said. “There's nothing wrong with wanting to give your mother a second chance.”

Liam didn't know if Karen meant her words or if she was just trying to keep the peace, but he appreciated it either way. Before Liam could thank her, though, she added,

“I don't want to be a pessimist, but I just don't want you to get your hopes up too high either, love.”

“I'm not,” Liam told her, and maybe he was, but he would never admit it to anyone, even himself, really.

Next, he asked, “So did she say anything to you guys?”

“Not much,” Karen replied. “Just hello and saying how proud she is of you and all that. She's kept pretty much to herself.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“I'm proud of you, Liam. This was brave.”

“Thanks...I think.”

“Ruth wants her phone back, so I'm going to hang up now, okay?”

“Okay. Keep me updated on your trip.”

“I will. I love you, sweetie.”

“Love you too.”

“Everything okay?” Niall asked as Liam disconnected and threw his phone to the end of the bed with a loud sigh.

“Yeah,” he answered. “I apparently forgot to tell my aunt and all of them that my mum was going to be at the show too and some of them are especially disapproving.”

“Don't let it bother you,” Niall said, turning on his side and scooting closer to Liam as the singer laid down on his back. “You did what you needed to do. Maybe everyone won't understand, but they don't have to. They'll love and support you, no matter how this turns out.”

“Hopefully.”

“They will,” Niall assured him and then, after giving him a kiss, said, “At least I know I will.”

Liam let slide the fact that Niall may have inadvertently told him that he loved him. He had Niall's support and so he knew that, no matter what happened the next day, he would be okay.

“Hey, lighten up,” Niall spoke again, kissing the spot in between Liam's eyes, where there had probably been a frown crease. “The Riverwalk was pretty neat, huh?”

Liam smiled, remembering his and Niall's day of visiting tourist sites, walking along the Riverwalk and admiring the marine life, and then eating pizza for dinner. (Chicago's pizza beat New York's pizza by a mile, earning itself a double A-plus in both of their books.)

“It was neat,” Liam agreed. With a smile, Niall kissed him, and then kept kissing him, and all negative feelings were lifted from Liam for the time being.

 

***Louis***

“'Possible side effects include loss of sexual desire and erectile dysfunction.' Oh my god, Louis, they gave me the devil's drug.”

Louis laughed, climbing from the foot of their bed in their hotel room in Vegas to sit on his knees by Harry's feet, resting his chin on the other's slightly drawn up knees.

“I'm sure we can find a solution if such a thing happens,” he said. “Like...the red shirt?”

“Oh, baby, say it again.”

“Red shirt.”

“Oh yeah, Lou; keep going.”

“Red shirt...with the top few buttons undone.”

“One more time, baby, I'm close.”

Louis laughed again, crawling next to sit by Harry and kiss him.

“I love you,” the singer said, taking the bottle of new anti-depressants from Harry's hand and looking them over. “Are you starting tonight?”

“Yeah, I suppose I should.”

Though Harry had put off telling his doctor to go ahead and give him something new for a couple of days, he finally had seemed to decide that enough was enough the night before Liam's birthday.

Louis had worried that something was wrong with his boyfriend the whole time they were out with their friends. While Harry wasn't the type to be loud anyway, he'd been extra quiet that night and, though he'd smiled at Louis and told him that he was fine whenever he asked, there was something off about that grin and the glint in his eyes. The singer had offered to take him back to the hotel more than once, but Harry had told him not to be silly; that they were out celebrating their friend's birthday and that they were having fun. Louis wondered if the 'they' included Harry.

That wasn't to say the night was terrible for either of them. Visiting Paris after leaving the restaurant was nice. Louis and Harry took multiple pictures and the dancer didn't say a single negative thing about his appearance in any of them. He'd even tweeted one of him and Louis out; one that Zayn had taken of them in front of the fountain where Harry had leaned down cutely to kiss Louis, his hands behind his back. Even while kissing him, Louis was smiling, and Harry had captioned the picture 'my rock,' which, of course, would probably have made Louis sob just a little if he had been alone. (Harry had only tweeted the picture after they were in the cab on the way to the bar, of course, so as not to alert fans of their immediate whereabouts.)

Even the bar wasn't bad. Harry livened up a bit, teasing Liam and joking around with him and allowing himself to be in all of the selfies that the birthday boy wanted to take as well. It wasn't until the group was back in Louis's room, eating cake, that Harry seemed truly upset by something again. He didn't eat the cake, and now that everyone knew about his disorder, no one pushed him to either, but Louis caught his boyfriend staring at peoples' forks and licking his lips before looking away and tapping his foot anxiously on the ground, and it was heartbreaking. It was almost as if Harry wanted the cake and had been told he wasn't allowed to eat it, which actually made perfect sense, when Louis thought about it. Maybe that was always how it was. Harry wanted food, but he'd told himself it was forbidden and couldn't convince himself otherwise no matter how hard he tried.

Luckily, no one stayed in Louis's room long and soon, it was just him and Harry cleaning up, as Louis had assured the others he would do and that they didn't have to worry about it. The clean up didn't take long anyway and Louis smiled widely at Harry when they were finished, ready to curl up and fall asleep with him. Harry returned the smile, but only part way, and then mumbled something about washing up and headed to the toilet.

Louis wasn't proud of it, but he hesitated only a few moments after the bathroom door clicked shut to tip-toe over and listen with his ear at the door. Harry shouldn't have felt the need to purge, as he hadn't eaten or had anything to drink since dinner, but what did Louis know?

When it came to Harry's eating disorder, Louis still basically knew nothing, and maybe it was invading Harry's privacy to listen like this, and maybe it would be frowned upon if he barged in and literally dragged him away from the toilet if he heard any evidence of the other man getting sick, but he would do it.

Harry hadn't been making himself sick, though. It was completely quiet in the bathroom for a worryingly long time, but right before Louis was about to pound on the door and make Harry assure him that he was still conscious, he heard a sniffle and a clearing of the throat, then another sniffle.

“Babe?” Louis asked, knocking on the door anyway. “Everything alright?”

His best guess was that Harry was crying and he figured that, if so, he would assure him that yes, everything was fine and he would be out in a minute, but that didn't happen. For a good few seconds, Harry didn't say anything, but then Louis heard the door handle turning and he quickly jumped away a bit, so that the dancer wouldn't know quite how close he'd been standing.

When Harry opened the door, he was crying, and Louis was put into shock, not at the fact that he was upset, of course, but because he was actively allowing him to see him like this; tears pouring out of his red eyes and his bottom lip quivering.

“What is it?” Louis asked, stepping close enough again to take one of Harry's hands. With his free one, Harry wiped his eyes, but didn't try to stop the tears, or try to stop Louis from seeing anymore of them than he already had.

“I'm tired,” he said.

“Tired, like need to go to bed tired or…?”

Harry shook his head.

“No,” he said. “I'm tired of being like this. Why can't I go to dinner like everyone else and order a normal sized meal and eat most of it while appreciating how good it tastes instead of worrying about all the reasons it's bad? Why can't I pass by people and hear them laughing without thinking they're laughing at me? Why can't I speak up and say the things I want to without regretting it because it means people look at me? Why the fuck am I like this?”

“I don't know, babe,” Louis said helplessly, pulling Harry close to him. The taller man wrapped his arms tightly around Louis's body and Louis held him back, fluffing up the bottom of his curls while he did so because that seemed to relax the both of them most of the time.

“I need to try a new medicine,” Harry said. “I can't live like this anymore.”

“Okay. Yes, love. We'll try everything until it works.”

And so Harry had called his psychiatrist the very next day and got a new prescription, which he picked up as soon as it was available. Louis was proud of him, which he made sure to say, but he didn't think Harry believed him. He didn't think he ever did.

“But Louis,” Harry whispered after a big lapse of time in which neither said a word. Louis wanted to say something comforting, but he felt that his words were likely to go in one ear and out the other at the moment and he didn't want to overuse them because some words lost meaning the more one said them.

“Yes, dear?” Louis urged.

“Erectile dysfunction…”

“It said _may_ cause,” Louis said, another smile touching his face. “To be honest, I'm more worried about the potential nausea, insomnia, blurred vision, constipation and irritability. _Especially_ the irritability, Lord help me.”

Harry laughed, a truly humored glint in his eye, before he leaned over to kiss Louis and then rest his head on his shoulder.

“I could never be annoyed with you,” he said with a yawn.

“Well that's a bare faced lie,” Louis snorted. “I'm annoying as fuck, Harry; even I know that.”

“Alright, maybe sometimes,” Harry said teasingly. “Still love you though.”

“I love you.”

Louis tossed Harry's pill bottle in the air and caught it before he asked,

“Would you like me to get you some water to take this with?”

“I'll get it,” Harry said, sitting up slowly and, just as slowly, getting to his feet. “Thank you, by the way.”

“You're welcome...For what?”

“Being you,” Harry said, taking his medicine from his boyfriend and going into the bathroom. Louis was nervous watching him go, but hopeful as well. Louis wasn't the type to pray often, but he sent a little prayer up to whoever may be listening then that this was the start of a happy life for Harry; a new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know not a lot of action happened in this chapter, but the next part will probably be quite long, so...that is all I'm going to say about that :)


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me for this, but I won't feel right if I don't say fuck cancer.
> 
> RIP Johannah <3

***Liam***

“Liam! I come bearing family members!”

The dancer hopped off of the couch backstage so quickly that Niall had to reach out and steady him. Of course, his balance wasn't helped by the couple of drinks he'd already had that morning. It had been a while since he'd had booze with breakfast, but that day was a special occasion, he thought. His nerves were so shot that he wouldn't make it through without at least a couple of mimosas, so he settled on three just to be safe.

“Fucking hell,” Harry had said when he and Louis had joined Liam and Niall at the restaurant where they were eating. “If you're that worried about it, Liam, then just tell your family you changed your mind about her. They'll do something about it, I know they will.”

Louis shot an inquisitive look at his boyfriend, but Harry simply patted his leg, silently assuring him that he would explain later. Great, that was one more person that was going to know about Liam's less-than-admirable history. Not that Louis probably thought he was very admirable in the first place, but still.

“I'm celebrating,” Liam had told Harry, and he was pretty sure both he and Niall rolled their eyes, but Liam's own eyeballs were spinning a little, so he wouldn't swear on it.

It was now nearly five in the evening, so the alcohol he'd consumed at breakfast had worn off long ago, as well as the drinks he'd had with lunch and then an afternoon treat, but slowly coming to sobriety was making him sleepy, and he hadn't gotten much rest much the previous night as it was.

“Baby bruh-sin!” Nicola exclaimed, hurrying over to wrap Liam in her arms.

“Bruh-sin?” Liam asked, hugging the woman back while looking over her shoulder. Geoff was there, and Karen and Ruth, but so far, he couldn't see any sign of his mother.

“It's my new word,” Nicola explained, letting go of Liam but rubbing his shoulders in a very grand-motherly way. “It's a mixture of brother and cousin, since every time I call you my brother, you like to claim otherwise.”

Liam smiled, but Karen spared him from replying by hugging him as well. Geoff clapped him on the shoulder a couple of times and Ruth offered a smile, but Liam gathered that the youngest girl was still mad at him.

After a couple beats of awkward silence, where Louis backed slyly away, looking, concerned, between the family members, Liam gathered the courage to ask,

“Is she not coming after all?”

“She's here,” Ruth said with a roll of her eyes. Karen gently bumped into her side, but her daughter continued hatefully, “She's outside talking to some crew man because, you know, that's what you should do when the son you haven't seen in however many years it's been is right inside waiting for you.”

“I was more excited to see you lot,” Liam told her truthfully. He didn't honestly know whether he had been disappointed or not that his mother hadn't bailed.

Karen spoke next, changing the subject.

“You're Niall then, yes?” she asked the man that was still standing next to Liam, touching his arm again.

“Yes, ma'm,” Niall answered with a smile.

“Karen,” the woman corrected, holding her hand out. Niall shook it, assuring her that it was nice to meet her. Karen told him the same.

“You're cuter off of Face Time,” Nicola commented, winking at Liam. “Not that you weren't cute on Face Time, but I'm just saying.”

“The Face Time cameras are awful for most people,” Niall commented, giving her a smile as well. His eyes then roamed to Geoff, whom he did a double take on, and Liam saw his smile turn to a slight frown, his brows pulling together in confusion. Taking a guess as to what was causing that reaction, Liam said,

“That's Geoff, my dad's brother. They're twins.”

“Oh,” Niall said with a laugh. “God, I was scared for a minute. Thought he was going to make you run away from me again.”

Liam shared Niall's laugh, and his amusement only grew at the dumbfounded look on his entire family's faces. Quickly, he told the story of meeting Niall at the zoo when they were much younger.

“What kind of fate bull shit?!” Nicola questioned.

“We went to school together too before I transferred,” her cousin added next. She threw up her hands while Ruth exclaimed,

“How come the one that's anti-love gets a Nicholas Sparks novel?”

“You've been on a few dates with that one guy now,” Nicola pointed out.

“What?!” Liam demanded, wondering why he hadn't heard of his cousin being on any dates, let alone multiple with the same fellow.

“We'll discuss it later,” Nicola said. “Someone's coming.”

The someone was, of course, Liam's mom, and he forgot to keep breathing as he saw her approaching. The feeling he got wasn't all positive, but it wasn't all negative either; at least he didn't think so. From beside him, he felt Niall squeeze his arm lightly; comfortingly, but it was almost as if his touch was from another realm, not quite able to reach him.

“Hi, baby,” the woman greeted with a wide smile. She didn't seem nervous at all and Liam envied her.

“Hi,” he croaked. The other smiled and flicked her hair over her shoulder, but didn't make a move to hug Liam-she was barely even looking at him-so Liam certainly didn't move forward to make the gesture either.

“This place is huge,” she commented after an awkward silence. Maybe it was only awkward to Liam, though, because she still seemed unphased.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“You don't get nervous performing in front of all of those people?”

“Sometimes, but it doesn't last long.”

“My little social butterfly.”

Liam nodded, not knowing how else to reply, and he looked to Niall, needing to look at someone other than the woman in front of him. His lover gave him a smile and, finally, Liam's heart seemed to stabilize again.

“Oh, um, mum...”

It felt weird to call her that, even though she was his mother and he still considered her as such in conversations with others. Saying it to her face, though, was different. Liam didn't like it, but there hadn't been any other name to use on her unless he took Ruth's title of 'egg donor,' so he brushed the feeling off and continued.

“This is Niall,” he said.

“Boyfriend?” she asked, one eyebrow quirked up curiously as a huge smile lit up her face and she finally looked at her son.

“Uh...”

“Who needs labels?” Niall asked light-heartedly, saving Liam. “It's nice to meet you-um...Sorry, I didn't get a name.”

“Darlene.”

“Darlene,” Niall repeated. Liam owed him the best thank-you-sex ever later, he decided.

“It's lovely to meet you too, Niall.”

When another beat of awkward silence passed, Niall spoke again. Liam was going to have to make this sex the best Niall had ever had somehow.

“Did you lot get to go out and explore today?” he asked, looking at every single member of Liam's family.

“Yes,” Ruth replied, her gaze directed at her cousin. “All of us.”

“That's good,” Niall said, purposely ignoring the underlining annoyance in her voice. Liam found that it was his turn to give Niall's hand a slight squeeze, hoping to relay how grateful he was for him; always, but in that moment especially. Since Niall was pretty much able to read Liam's mind, he shot the man a quick smile, assuring him not to worry about it, probably.

“Um...what did you do?” Liam finally spoke up again, and Karen took over the conversation; telling Liam about the places they went and sights they had seen.

“I'm sure Liam has to do dancer things now,” Geoff said when the tale of their adventures had ended, and Karen checked her husband's watch, gasping when she saw the time.

“Oh, goodness! I didn't realize it was so late! We meant to just come and say a quick hello!”

“It's alright,” Liam assured them. “If I was needed, they wouldn't be shy of making it known.”

“How about we all go out after the show?” Liam's mother suggested. If Liam's nerves weren't so high, he would have found it comical how the other side of his family all turned their heads to her at the same time; the same, blank expression on their faces as they all (well, except Ruth) tried to hide their disdain.

“I'm sure Liam will be tired after the show,” Geoff tried to reason with her, and Liam was tired already so he could only imagine what he would be feeling like once the adrenaline rush wore off, but for some reason, he was quick to interject.

“We go out afterward a lot. It's fine with me if we go somewhere.”

Instead of looking at Darlene, Liam's aunt, uncle and cousins looked to him instead, collectively sighing, but then Karen forced a smile onto her face.

“We'll see how you feel after the show,” she said.

“We should go find our seats,” Nicola stated, and the others agreed. Karen, Geoff and their girls gave Liam another hug while Darlene simply wished him good luck and went on her way, ahead of the others.

“Are you okay?” Karen whispered in Liam's ear as she hugged him, and Liam assured her that he was because he knew that it was true, even if he did kind of want to cry and throw things and drink and have lots of rough sex with Niall. The latter desire was nothing new and so Liam took it as proof that nothing was really bothering him at all.

Soon after Liam's family went to find their seats, Harry and Zayn approached to verify that Liam was alright, and Liam told them, too, that he was. He then gave them hugs and thanked them for asking, but regretted it afterward because that seemed to inexplicably worry them more.

 

Thankfully, Liam got a reprieve from everything he was feeling while performing. It was always that way, which was why he craved performance so much. He wasn't Liam while he was dancing or singing. He was simply a living manifestation of the words and movements that he was conveying. The thoughts and feelings that came from him on stage or at a karaoke bar didn't really belong to him. He was simply borrowing someone else's joy, fear and pain; numbing his own for hours.

Typically, after a show ended, it took a good while for his own true feelings to return, but that night, he wanted to cry again as soon as he left the stage and he couldn't stop from shaking, which Niall was quick to notice. He didn't say much about it, just hugged Liam tighter than he ever had, like he could stop the tremors with enough loving force. It didn't work, but Liam stopped wanting to cry so much, at least.

“Holy shit, bruh-sin!” Nicola exclaimed when she and the rest of the family arrived backstage again. It was only then that Niall let go of Liam, pushing him gently into the woman's arms instead. “I knew you were good, but that was amazing!”

“Thank you,” Liam replied, patting her on the back and fighting against the joking remark of how he was surprised she was hugging him when he was so sweaty; something she had never done after any of his rehearsals.

“I'm so proud of you,” Karen said, taking her turn to hug Liam once Nicola let him go. Geoff and Ruth gave their similar comments next, and then Liam's mom gave him a quick smile.

“Are we going out tonight then?” she asked.

 

“You're not coming out with us?” Liam said to Niall when, after returning to their hotel room, the other dancer showered and then got into sweats, settling himself down on the bed with a packet of cheese crackers he'd bought from a nearby vending machine.

“Oh, do you want me to?” Niall asked, sitting up straighter and looking at Liam as if the fact that Liam wanted him around was shocking or something.

“Well, yeah,” Liam said, giving Niall a mildly condescending look because Liam knew he didn't wear his heart on his sleeve or anything, but he thought he'd been making it obvious how much Niall meant to him. “But if you don't want to come, it's fine. I get that it might be awkward hanging out with my family.”

“It won't be awkward, at least for me,” Niall assured him quickly, turning off the television that he had just flicked on moments ago. “I just figured you would want some time alone with them.”

“Time alone with my family has never gone well,” Liam said with a small laugh. “If you're there, they'll all be less likely to have a verbal throw down. Maybe a physical throw down now that my mum is involved. Not that that's the only reason I want you to come, though. I just like having you around.”

The other man smiled, getting to his feet without another moment's hesitation.

“Alright then,” he said. “Let me find something to wear real quick.”

 

“I think it's hilarious that mum and dad are going to a bar,” Ruth commented from the front seat of the taxi on the way to the group's destination. She, Liam, Niall and Karen were riding in one taxi while Nicola, Geoff and Darlene took a separate one.

“It's more of a restaurant,” Liam said quickly. “It has a bar inside, but we'll get a regular table.”

“I bet your mother won't.”

“Ruth,” Karen said warningly. Then, she asked, “What is so funny about your father and me being at a bar anyway?”

“I don't know...because you're you,” Ruth said. “You're always all put together...and sober.”

“We met drunk at a party,” Karen said, smiling a bit and looking quite proud of the fact.

“You said you met at university,” her daughter stated.

“Yes. A university party while we were drunk.”

Liam laughed loudly at the look of shock on his cousin's face, as if her mom had just told her some deep, dark secret about herself.

“Karen, I've never felt like I belonged to you guys more,” Liam joked, laying his head on the woman's shoulder. With a small laugh, his aunt patted the side of his head.

“You've always belonged, dear,” she said, and Liam didn't miss how Niall was struggling with his facial muscles, trying to keep from smiling too wide as he buried his nose in his phone.

 

The cab that Liam was in arrived several minutes after the other, having gotten stuck in traffic (and sincerely infuriating their driver), and Nicola claimed they all owed them drinks for having to wait.

“You could have, I don't know, gone inside and got us a table,” Liam said, putting his arm around her shoulder and leading the group in. “Where did my mum go?”

“She wanted to get an early start on drinking,” Nicola answered, trying to sound polite.

“What did I tell you?” Ruth asked.

“Maybe she got us a table then,” Karen said lightly, but when they entered, the woman was nowhere to be found. No one needed to say out loud that she had clearly gone straight for the bar.

After being told that they could sit where they liked, the family found a table big enough for the whole of them and sat, looking over their menus quietly.

“Are you drinking?” Niall asked Liam, flipping back and forth between the drink menu and the food.

“Yeah,” Liam said. “I've got you tonight, by the way. I owe you.”

“For what?” Niall asked, genuinely curious, but Liam simply shrugged, offering a smile.

“I'm just getting your food and drinks tonight is all.”

“If you insist, but you don't owe me anything,” the other said. Liam smiled, making sure to wrinkle his nose adorably, and then he remembered that his family was present and sobered himself quickly.

“So...I'm going to find my mum,” he said, rising to his feet.

“What do you want so I can order for you if the waiter or waitress comes before you're back?” Niall asked. Liam gave his request and then walked off. He was shaking again a little bit, realizing that, in a few moments, it would just be he and his mom face-to-face without Niall, Karen or the others deterring the conversation whenever it began to grow awkward. It was tempting to turn and go back to the table, claiming he couldn't find the woman and simply waiting for her to join them, but that would make him a coward and Liam was not going to claim that title, so he kept on his way to the bar.

He spotted the woman almost instantly. She was sitting on a stool directly in the middle of the bar-always liking to be the center of attention, like her son. She had a nearly empty glass in her hand and looked up with a huge, flirtatious smile on her face when Liam approached before realizing who it was next to her.

“Oh, hey, baby,” she said, not smiling quite as big, but still smiling. “How are you?”

As she spoke, she reached out a hand, patting Liam's cheek like a stereotypical mother, except her pats were more like gentle slaps. Darlene had never been the one to physically abuse Liam, but the touch made Liam cringe anyway, his eyes not opening until a few seconds after the contact between them had ceased.

“Are you ready to go to the table?” Liam asked the woman then. “We're getting ready to order food.”

“Yes, sure, baby. Just let me get my next drink and then we can go. Do you want something? It's my treat.”

“I'll get something at the table,” Liam assured her.

“You can get something at both places,” Darlene said, her smile growing slightly. “Come on, what do you like?”

“Anything,” Liam admitted. She laughed.

“You are most definitely my son.”

Liam wasn't sure that was a compliment, though he felt bad for thinking that way.

When the bartender came back to check on her, Darlene ordered herself a second drink and got something for Liam as well. As she handed the man's drink to him, Liam realized that accepting alcohol from his mom was one of the strangest feelings he'd ever had, even if it shouldn't have been all that weird. He was of legal drinking age and did so all of the time. There was nothing wrong with this.

It was hard to convince himself of that when the two reached the table and were met with the disappointed look on all the others' faces.

Niall and Liam traded spots in their booth so that Liam was between his lover and his mother, and, multiple times, Liam caught himself leaning sideways into Niall, away from the woman. He didn't know if Niall noticed or not, but the smaller man would subtly stroke Liam's leg every now and then, when the attention wasn't on them.

 

Darlene ordered four drinks throughout their meal, and Liam did the same. He hadn't wanted most of those drinks, but the childish part of him couldn't help but think he would be letting down his mom if he couldn't keep up with her. Besides, the more he drank, the more comfortable he became around her and by the end, when he was admittedly not feeling his best, he was even leaning against the woman, warmed by the too-rough pats she would give his knee once in a while.

“I'm guessing we're calling it a night,” Nicola spoke; the first discernible thing that Liam had been able to pick up on in a while, and when Niall tapped his shoulder, he jumped, only then realizing that he had been more unconscious than not for who knew how long.

“Are you ready to go back to the hotel?” he asked. Liam blinked his eyes, trying to get the other man to come into focus, but that was hopeless, and so he gave up, sitting up for only a moment before falling into Niall instead of his mother. The more sober dancer gave a small chuckle, but it sounded strained, even to Liam's drunk ears.

“I'm guessing that's a yes,” he said.

“Hold on, I'm not ready to say goodbye yet,” Darlene spoke, pulling Liam back towards her.

“Easy,” Geoff warned, but if Liam had been able to muster up enough energy, he would have told him that it was okay. It felt nice that his mother wanted him.

“Will you come back to my hotel with me, baby?” Darlene asked, petting the top of Liam's head, and how was he going to say no to that?

“Okay,” he slurred, his eyes closing again as he took comfort in her touch for the first time in an extremely long time.

“Darlene, he's about to pass out,” Geoff reasoned. “We're all still going to be here tomorrow. How about the two of you get together then, if you both want?”

“He wants to come with me,” the woman said.

“I don' feel good,” Liam commented.

“Oh, god,” Ruth said, sounding more worried than anything else. Liam wanted to hug her and tell her that he was okay, but he didn't trust himself to move.

“He needs to go back to his room and sleep,” Geoff continued.

“He needs someone to take care of him,” Darlene snapped. “He'll come back with me.”

It was silent amongst them for a few moments after that. Liam had almost fallen completely asleep when Karen spoke again, almost as if she was talking to herself.

“Well, we're in the same hotel, so if she needs help, we'll be there, at least.”

“I won't need help!” Darlene snapped, and she rose to her feet so suddenly that Liam fell to the side. Niall grabbed his arm, but too late to really help anything. Liam still wasn't completely helpless, though, so he sat up again and then stood with the help of his lover, who kept a tight hold around his waist as he led him out.

“Wait,” Liam said when the front door to the restaurant was opened and the warm night time air hit his face. “I forgot to pay.”

“We took care of it, don't worry,” Niall assured him.

“I was supposed to pay!”

“Next time, okay?”

Liam humphed, but there was nothing he could do about it then and speaking made him feel even sicker, so he let it go.

While the group waited for their respective taxis, Liam fell into a light sleep, standing with his head rested on top of Niall's. Once the first arrived, the man woke him by gently smacking his bum, which Liam wouldn't have expected him to do around his family, but he had the feeling all other methods of rousing Liam had already been tested and failed.

“Are you going with your mum?” Niall asked.

“Oh. Yeah,” Liam said, attempting to break free from Niall and follow the woman into the cab, but instead Niall led him over, gently helping to get him in the backseat.

“I'll see you soon, Li,” he said, and from the little Liam could make out of his face, he looked worried; scared, even.

“Yeah,” Liam told him. “It's okay, Niall.”

“Ring me if you need anything.”

Liam assured him that he would while Darlene told Niall that she could provide Liam with anything he needed. Geoff and Karen entered the cab and then they were off. Briefly, Liam hoped that Nicola and Ruth would go easy on Niall while they were alone with him.

Geoff helped Liam out of the vehicle upon arriving to the hotel and then continued to assist him on the way to his mother's room. Once they were outside the door, Liam gave his uncle a hug.

“Thank you,” he said. Even though Liam and Geoff had rarely properly hugged-Liam thought Geoff was often afraid to touch Liam first, given that he looked like his father and Liam wasn't going to go in for a hug first under normal circumstances-the older man returned the gesture without hesitation.

“You're welcome, son,” he said. “Get some rest. We're in the room directly across from you if you need anything, alright?”

“Why does everyone think I can't take care of him myself?!” Darlene asked, pulling Liam away from his uncle. Geoff gasped and then let out a breath that Liam thought was supposed to be calming, but before any more words could be exchanged, the woman was pulling her son into the room, shutting and dead bolting the door behind her.

“Okay, what do you need?” she asked Liam.

“Bed. Water,” he said simply, stumbling his way to the first bed he saw and collapsing. His mother soon joined his side with a cup of water and Liam thanked her.

“See? I'm a good mother,” she said after Liam had downed his beverage and set the empty cup on the nightstand.

“You are,” Liam assured her before laying his head on the pillow and closing his eyes. He felt his mom take his shoes off for him and pull the blankets up over him before he fell into a dreamless sleep.

 

When Liam woke, his mom was already up and drinking a wine cooler. The sight alone made Liam nauseous and he groaned. Darlene gave a small laugh.

“Do you want one?” she asked. “It will fix your hangover right up.”

“I just want food,” Liam croaked. _And Niall_ , he thought.

“This works better than food,” she said, and Liam groaned again.

“Food,” he repeated. Again, the woman laughed.

“Oh, alright.”

Liam watched as she stood and dug around her bag until she pulled out a cookie and tossed it to Liam, who nearly threw up in his attempt to catch it. Luckily, he did not.

“What is the plan for today?” Darlene asked, plopping herself back onto the bed opposite of Liam, smiling like she was oblivious to Liam's misery. Before Liam could conjure up a response that wasn't rude, there was a knock on the door. Darlene sighed loudly.

“Who is it?!” she called, making Liam flinch as his head gave a nasty pound.

“It's Ruth!” the guest called, and Darlene rolled her eyes. Liam guessed their feelings for each other were mutual, then.

“Are you going to open the door for her?” Liam asked when his mom made no move towards getting up, and Darlene stared at him for a moment, silently debating, before sighing and rolling her eyes again as she went to answer the door.

“Aw, look how miserable you are,” Ruth commented upon entering, like Liam's about-to-puke face was just the cutest thing she had ever seen. He glared at her and she laughed.

“Don't worry, baby brother. You are in luck because I come bearing Gatorade and grease.”

“You're an angel,” Liam commented, accepting the food and drink from her and putting his barely touched cookie back onto the wrapper sitting on the bed.

“I know it,” she said, and then proceeded to ask Liam exactly how much sleep he'd gotten, if he'd been sick and if he'd drank any water at all. The whole time, Darlene stood, arms crossed over her chest on the complete opposite side of the room, trying to murder Ruth with her gaze, it seemed.

“You should probably call Niall,” the younger woman commented when she had finished her interrogation. “He was really worried about you last night.”

“I need to go back and shower anyway,” Liam said.

“There's a shower here,” Darlene spoke.

“I need a new outfit,” Liam pointed out. “I'll come back, don't worry.”

Ruth gave Liam a look, completely judging him, but he ignored it.

“Promise?” Darlene asked.

“Yes,” Liam assured her with a small smile. Now that he was sober, the comfort he felt around the woman was gone and he was uneasy again, but she had taken care of him the previous night, so he owed her that much, he thought. He hadn't had Louis fly her all the way to another country to ignore her.

“How did it go?” Ruth asked, having walked Liam to the elevators and then gotten in with him to see him out and wait for a cab.

“It was fine. I slept the whole time,” Liam assured her.

“That was so dumb to stay with her, Liam,” the woman sighed, hugging him even as she insulted him. “Did she even make sure you were on your side? I bet she didn't wake up at all to make sure you were still breathing.”

“Roo, I wasn't that drunk,” Liam laughed.

“Drunk enough,” she disagreed.

“Mum had more to drink than I did,” Liam pointed out, and only by one or so, but still.

“Yeah, but she's been getting drunk every day of her life for how many years now? She's got more of a tolerance, which isn't something to be proud of.”

“Everything's good,” Liam said again, kissing the woman on the cheek as his taxi pulled up. “I'll see you later. Maybe we can get lunch.”

 

Zayn was in the room with Niall when Liam entered, and Liam, of course, spent minutes assuring the others that he was fine. He was a grown man and he could take care of himself, which he told them, but he was insulted to find that they didn't appear to really believe him.

 

Liam knew that his mom wanted time with him to herself, but he also knew that he owed it to Karen, Geoff and the girls to do something with them, so he spent the day with his adoptive family before going back to his mother's room that night; the two deciding previously to go to a club.

When Darlene opened the door for Liam, she appeared to have just woken up and only offered a yawn as she stepped back and allowed him to enter.

“I'll be ready soon,” she told the man as he shut the door behind himself. “I need to re-apply my face and such.”

“No rush,” Liam assured her, taking a seat on the bed, where he could still see his mother getting ready in the mirror.

“You can help yourself to whatever is in the refrigerator,” she said. “I've already done a bit of pre-partying myself.”

Darlene laughed. Liam didn't return it.

“I'm good, thanks,” he said.

“Alright, well can you be a doll and grab me something, please?”

Liam didn't want to, but he did as he was told. That felt even more wrong than when his mother had handed him alcohol the previous night. He'd spent so much of his childhood picking up her bottles and even dumping out full ones and filling them with a juice of the same color while she was asleep, and now here he was; supplying her. He didn't know why it bothered him, though. Time had shown him that, no matter what, he wouldn't get the woman to change.

“So, baby, fill me in,” she said after she'd taken a big swig from her bottle and then began contouring her face. “What have you been up to?”

“Just dance, really,” Liam said. That had been the most important part of his life and he wasn't about to fill the woman in on the nearly six years she had missed.

“Hm,” she hummed. “Any boyfriends?”

“No.”

“No?!” she repeated in shock, pausing her make-up application to gape at Liam. “I thought you were gay?!”

“I am,” Liam said. “I've never had an actual relationship though.”

Darlene continued to gape at Liam for a good few seconds before she shut her mouth and moved on to do her eyes. Liam fidgeted the entire two minutes it took for her to speak again.

“It's just as well that you don't try to find a committed relationship anyway,” she said.

“Wait, why do you say that?” Liam asked, frowning. He didn't know why the words had hurt. He'd known he wasn't a relationship type of guy for a while.

“You're too much like me, baby,” she said. “We're free spirits, and there's nothing wrong with that, but people with souls like ours are hard to love; impossible even, I often think.”

It was Liam's turn to gape, disbelieving that those words were coming out of her mouth; that any mother would say that to her child.

“Yes,” Darlene continued, even though Liam hadn't said anything. “Why do you think your father is the way he is?”

“Because he's a bigot?”

“No, Liam. Don't talk about your father like that. He's a good man. We were the problem. He tried to love us, but he just couldn't. We're meant to be alone.”

“Niall says he loves me,” Liam said after a rough internal debate on whether to speak up or not.

“But you said you aren't boyfriends,” Darlene pointed out.

“Because I told him that I don't date or anything. I think about changing that sometimes.”

“If he really loved you, he wouldn't be okay with how things are” the woman said matter-of-factly. “He would either have made you his boyfriend already or given up, because it's too painful to love someone without reciprocation, Liam. Niall is a nice boy, and I'm glad you have him to do whatever you're doing with, but when you get bored, you'll find someone else, and so will he.”

“I don't want to talk about this anymore,” Liam said, standing to retrieve a wine cooler from the mini fridge, even though alcohol had sounded terrible only a couple minutes ago.

“Aw, sweetie, I didn't mean to upset you,” the woman spoke, though her tone wasn't exactly sympathetic or regretful. “I'm only trying to help. It took me a long time to realize these things about myself and now that I have, I feel so much better. I'm just trying to help you see who you are.”

“I know who I am,” Liam nearly hissed. _Stupid, naive, crazy, unlovable._

“Good,” the other said, smiling at her son again. “Don't worry, though, sweetie. You're a decent looking guy. It won't be hard for you to continue finding people to help you feel loved, at least for a night.”

Liam didn't mention that he'd had plenty of men that had loved him for a night and that it had never felt like love to him. He'd never wanted it to be love either. Recently, he'd been trying to convince himself that it was love which he was running from but that, just maybe, he was finally becoming okay with it catching up to him.

But Liam didn't know how he'd ever let those thoughts enter his mind besides for the fact that he was _stupid, naive, crazy, unlovable…_

***Harry***

“So beautiful.”

“Lou-”

“So beautiful, Harry.”

“Okay, babe, thank you, but if you don't stop sucking on my neck, we are going to need to do something that will cause us to be quite late.”

The previous night, Harry and Louis boarded a plane right after his show so that they could make it to California and be ready for the award show, which was that day.

“Can't help it,” Louis said. You're just so gorgeous.”

Louis did stop sucking his neck, though; burying his nose into the side of it for a couple of moments before kissing the skin and then backing up, a smile on his face.

“I'm so happy I get to show you off.”

“I guarantee that, at some point tonight, I'm going to do something to embarrass you,” Harry said, the feeling twisting deep in his gut.

“Nonsense,” Louis said. “I embarrass myself every big event I go to, so you won't have a chance.”

“Hey, now, you've only tripped going up onstage at one award show, haven't you?” Harry reasoned.

“Yes,” Louis said, “but I got nervous hiccups at one, forgot to zip my fly at another and spilled a drink on myself at my last. I wasn't even intoxicated yet.”

“Aw,” Harry cooed, leaning down to kiss Louis on the nose. “I have faith in you. Nothing will happen this time, unless it's me fucking it up.”

“You're so graceful. It's not going to happen,” Louis insisted, standing on his tip toes to kiss Harry's lips. Then, there was a knock on the hotel room door; Alberto ready to usher them out.

Harry was nervous, but he tried to keep as much from Louis, who was nervous himself and had much more reason to be. It was his music video up for an award. It would be he who the interviewers would want to talk to; him in the spotlight, even in the pictures Harry was included in as well. Harry knew that Louis's fans were somewhat interested in him, but next to Louis, he would easily be forgotten, and he was grateful for it.

Louis was getting quite good at reading Harry, though, and he seemed to know that he was nervous because he showered him with compliments every few minutes and kept giving him small touches that did help calm him a bit, if only for an instant.

Harry had little experience with the paparazzi. They would run into one or two every now and then while out and about on the streets, if Dean made it a point to alert the media, but for the most part, it wasn't hard to go unnoticed.

That night was different. Harry had known it would be, of course. It was an awards show, and he knew there would be several photographers; numerous entertainment sources shouting out questions and compliments. He hadn't been quite prepared for exactly how bright it was going to be, though, or how loud.

Louis was out of the limo first, and piercing screams filled the air. The singer waved briefly and then took Harry's hand to help him out. More screams followed and Harry fell back a bit, both from the shock and the lights flashing in his eyes.

“You okay?” Louis asked, his loud voice barely audible. Harry nodded and then realized he should probably be smiling, which was what he did. He couldn't do anything about his watering eyes for a minute or so, though.

When Louis reached the end of the red carpet, Harry backed off, knowing the cameras wanted just him. The singer looked over every now and then, checking on him, and then, once approached by an interviewer, waved him over.

“Who are you wearing?” the woman in charge of questioning Louis was asking as Harry approached. Louis dropped the name that he was supposed to, and then, much to Harry's surprise, the woman turned to him.

“And you? The same?”

“Um...sorry?” Harry asked unintelligibly, and, smiling, Louis put his arm around the dancer's waist.

“It's so loud here,” Louis commented, and then proceeded to tell the interviewer that, yes, Harry was wearing the same designer as he was. Harry hoped he wasn't blushing and that his face was only growing hot because of the lights.

“How special would it be for your video to win the award when you were able to film it with your significant other?” the lady asked next.

“It would be so special,” Louis said, “but the video is always going to be special to me anyway, for that reason.”

“Of course. Harry, how was it to star in your boyfriend's video?”

Harry nearly physically jolted when he realized that he was being spoken to, but he cleared his throat and composed himself fairly well.

“It was a lot of fun,” he said. “You know, typically, he would have to go off somewhere and film, but this way, I got to be with him the entire day and so it was really just like a typical party at my boyfriend's and it was great.”

 _Terrible answer, Harry,_ the dancer chastised himself, but Louis was beaming at him, so Harry didn't think he was too embarrassed quite yet. There was time for that later still.

“You two don't get tired of each other?” the interviewer asked next, and Harry thought she was joking, but the question still unnerved him. She continued, “You're on tour together, and rumor has it that you share a bus or hotel room every night. Do you ever need your own time?”

“No,” Louis answered, laughing a little as he shot a quick look to Harry. “I can't speak for him with me, but I can't fathom ever growing tired of him.”

Harry smiled, but remained quiet; not because he ever was tired of Louis, of course, but because he wasn't the one that people wanted to hear. The fact that he was included in the conversation at all was a little bit weird, he thought.

Another few questions were asked, none that involved Harry, and then the two were sent to take a few pictures together before being ushered to their seats.

“See? You're a pro at the whole red carpet thing,” Louis complimented as he pulled his boyfriend's chair out for him before taking his own seat.

“Hardly,” Harry said, but gave a grateful smile anyway.

“I was serious,” Louis said, but then turned to the other couple at the table-another pop singer and her actor boyfriend-and said it was nice to see them again. He introduced Harry, who was almost sure the judgmental looks they gave him were only in his head.

They were given alcohol and fed a nice dinner at the award show, because why wouldn't they be? Again, Harry tried to convince himself that not _everyone_ knew about his problems and that the others at the table weren't actually staring him down as he took bite after bite; quickly so that he couldn't think about it too much and publicly struggle.

From nearby, a camera flash went off and Harry dropped his fork, hoping they didn't photograph him eating. Louis patted his knee briefly from under the table and Harry tried to give an assuring smile, but found that he couldn't pick up his fork and continue eating again after that. It shouldn't matter, he figured, as he'd only left about a quarter of his meal on his plate anyway.

_Pig._

Shortly after their dinner plates were taken away, dessert was served. They weren't even asked if they wanted any. It was simply assumed and so, soon, Harry had a piece of marble cake in front of him, mocking him.

“I'm sorry,” Louis mouthed when Harry made eye contact with him and, again, the dancer gave the best smile he could muster before taking one single bite and pushing his plate to the side.

Luckily, it wasn't too much longer before their dessert plates were whisked away. The guests were poured another glass of champagne and, though Harry knew he didn't need the calories, he needed the relaxation and so he downed his drink in record time.

Soon, the ceremony started. Harry was a bit buzzed-and the alcohol just kept coming-so the show seemed to be going a lot quicker to him than it actually was. He got the feeling that Louis was nervous and whispered reassuring things in his ear every now and then. It always seemed to soothe Louis for at least a few moments and Harry wished he knew how to do that to himself because, even while under the amount of intoxication that he was, he still couldn't stop the thoughts replaying in his head; that there were hundreds if not thousands of strangers around, watching him drink, eat and not deserve Louis.

All the alcohol and food started to catch up to Harry and he began to feel sick, but before he could think to do anything about it, it was time for the category in which Louis was nominated for.

Harry had watched nearly every award show that Louis had appeared at, and he always grew nervous waiting to see if his favorite singer won, and that time was no exception. He forgot his own worries for only a second, his heart pounding out of his chest for the other man. Harry hoped that Louis knew he would be proud of him no matter what and that he should also be proud of himself too; win or lose.

As usual, though, Harry had worried for nothing. Louis won.

When his name was called, Harry actually shouted out with excitement, jumping up pretty smoothly and pulling Louis against him, kissing the top of his head. Louis was beaming, and he pecked Harry on the lips and told him that he would be right back before hurrying to the stage to accept his award.

“Um...wow,” he began with a nervous laugh, and Harry's cheeks were hurting from how wide and effortlessly he was smiling. “I can honestly say I didn't expect this. I hate the term 'coming out of the closet,' but for the sake of this speech, that's what I'm going to use.'

'When I first came out, I had so many people in my professional life abandon me. I became a liability. I was told multiple times that I'd made a mistake; that I would lose the majority of my fan base over it, so now, to win an award for this video in which all I had to do was flirt with my boyfriend and kiss him, it's amazing. A special thank you to every one who voted.'”

Louis paused while the audience clapped and then he continued, speaking a little faster.

“I would also like to thank my mum, as always, for being my number one supporter, my friend and tour manager, Beatrice, the director of my video...”

Harry spaced out as Louis's list of thank-yous went on, making him the worst boyfriend ever, probably, but he couldn't help it because, suddenly, he saw opportunity. Louis's speech would take another minute or so and the walk back to the table was fairly long. The singer was sure to be stopped along the way. Harry could probably make it to the bathroom and back before Louis even realized he was gone.

But the other couple at the table would know, and Alberto, and anyone else that happened to see him sneaking away. There could even potentially be photographic proof, and Louis was sure to be hurt if he thought Harry bolted during his speech, no matter what reason Harry came up with. The thought of hurting Louis again was worse than the thought of keeping this food inside of him, so Harry stayed, though he was ashamed for it.

 _You're pathetic, Harry,_ two different voices in his head were saying. _You're just too pathetic to go do it._

The other voice, however, was saying, _You're pathetic to even be thinking these things. You're living your wildest dream. Why can't you be happy?_

“...and, last, but certainly not least, thank you to my amazing tour dancers that appeared in my video, and especially to my star, Harry.”

Harry snapped back to reality as applause broke out around the place and, belatedly, he began to clap too.

 

“You did so amazing with your speech,” Harry told Louis for the third time once they were in the limo, heading to the show's after party. Between every word, Harry would kiss Louis's neck and the singer had an awfully tight hold on his thigh. Harry wanted to skip the party altogether, but Louis had already told him that they would only stay long enough for the paparazzi to get their few pictures in, and so he guessed he could wait.

Louis stuck true to his word, as always. The pair arrived at the club and were photographed going in, sharing one single drink from the bar, dancing to a couple of songs, and interacting with a few different people, and then they went on their way.

“I'm so proud of you,” Harry whispered as he shut the door to their hotel room and gently pushed Louis against it, kissing his lips and then his jawline before lightly sucking on his neck. Louis gave a little moan and wrapped his arms around Harry's neck. The dancer lifted the singer from his feet and carried him to bed, his heart palpitating from the struggle, even though Louis wasn't big, of course. As Harry had already known, he was just weak.

Louis's phone began to ring as Harry leaned over top of him, kissing him all over, and the dancer began to back off so that he could answer, but Louis pulled him back down.

“Keep going,” he said, and so Harry did. Eventually, his phone silenced.

“I love you,” Louis whispered into Harry's ear before nipping at the lobe.

“Love you,” Harry returned, unbuttoning Louis's shirt and tracing the outline of his abs.

Harry had just gotten the singer's pants undone when his phone rang again.

“Are you sure you don't want to get that?” Harry asked.

“I'm sure it's just people wanting to talk about the show. They can wait.”

Wordlessly, Harry began to kiss Louis again. His pants were on the floor and Harry's own were unbuttoned when it rang again.

“Jesus!” Louis breathed, frustrated, sitting up with Harry still on his thighs and retrieving his phone from the end of the bed, where he'd thrown it the second time it had started to make noise.

“Yes, Bumble Bee?” Louis asked his tour manager, trying not to sound as aggravated as Harry knew he was, but the dancer didn't really think he succeeded.

Harry couldn't hear what the woman was saying over the phone, but whatever it was had Louis changing his demeanor in an instant. He sat even straighter, his eyes widening and his mouth hanging open a little.

“What happened?” he asked after what seemed like forever. Harry's heart began to race in a different, much worse way. “Is he going to be okay?” Louis pressed. Beatrice spoke again and then Louis.

“No, I'm coming,” he said, patting Harry's leg. The dancer removed himself from Louis's thighs, blushing, but he had deeper concerns at the moment than if he'd been crushing the singer.

“I don't know, Bee! I'll figure something out and let you know when it's all situated. See you soon.”

“What happened?” Harry asked as soon as Louis moved the phone away from his ear, and while he typically wouldn't be so pushy, he felt as if he were literally on the verge of a panic attack.

“We have to go back to Chicago,” Louis said, slipping on his pants. “Liam's in the hospital.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know; I'm evil ;)


	39. Chapter 39

***Liam***

A majority of the night was a blur, but the parts that Liam remembered, he knew he was going to have to raise his daily alcohol intake to forget.

He'd chugged two wine coolers by the time he and his mother left for the night club. Unfortunately, that hadn't been nearly enough to get him buzzed or help him to feel better about the conversation he and the woman had, so he went straight for the bar as soon as the bouncer let them into the club without even checking to see if Darlene was following. Unfortunately, she was.

Liam ordered a drink for the both of them, not even caring anymore that he was supplying the woman with her poison. Maybe that made him a terrible son, but he couldn't be bothered by it. He wasn't a good human being in the first place, so what made him think he could ever be a good son, nephew, cousin, friend or lover?

“You're upset,” Darlene noted as Liam finished off his drink in record time. If he was in a better mood, he may have been proud of himself for it.

“No, I'm not,” Liam lied as he turned to order something else. The woman downed the rest of her drink, placed the glass on the bar and then leaned against it, one hand squeezing Liam's shoulder, only briefly.

“Order me another one of what I just had, will you?” she asked. “I'm going to find someone to help you feel better.”

Liam opened his mouth, about to tell the woman that he didn't want anyone. He hadn't truly wanted anyone except Niall for a long while, and it was the cute blonde man from Ireland that he currently longed for, but then he remembered what Darlene had told him earlier and he closed his mouth again. Part of him said that he was being stupid. Why would he listen to what this woman, who knew virtually nothing about him and had basically abandoned him years before, said over the guy who told him he loved him, and did everything to prove it?

As Darlene walked away, swaying her hips, Liam watched until she'd disappeared among the numerous dancing bodies and then he pulled out his phone. He found Niall's contact information and stared, wanting to call but knowing he shouldn't. Or perhaps he knew he should call but didn't want to because he was afraid.

_Coward. Stupid, crazy, naive, unlovable coward._

Sighing, Liam put his phone back in his pocket. He didn't know what he would say to Niall even if he had called. _Get me out of here_ , was the first thing he would be tempted to say because all that he wanted to do was go back to the hotel, cuddle with Niall in bed, tell him he loved him and beg him to truly feel the same, but, while Liam had come to terms with the fact that he was a pathetic human being, he was still doing all he could do to hide that from the rest of the world.

Looking back over his shoulder, the dancer realized he had lost his mother completely. She would be sure to stick out in her bright pink dress and with bright blonde hair, but she was nowhere to be seen. After getting their drinks, Liam would look around for her a bit more, but if he didn't easily find her, he would take the liberty of drinking her beverage for her and he wouldn't feel bad about it in the slightest.

Liam sighed again as he turned back to the bar, the pounding in his head growing. He typically loved this scene; the smell of alcohol, the sweaty, dancing bodies, the blaring music making his heart race in the best way, couples all around flirting whether they'd known each other for years or just met…

That night, though, the smell of the alcohol and sweat were nauseating. The music was growing on his nerves and making what would only be a mild discomfort in his skull nearly unbearable and the men and women who were kissing and grinding all over each other saddened him because Liam knew that some of them probably thought that the signs of affection meant that they were loved when it could very well mean nothing at all.

Someone came up behind Liam then, squeezing his hip, and the dancer jumped, but relaxed when he saw that it was only Jakob and offered a smile as the other man leaned sideways against the bar, grinning at Liam in return.

“Hey, Li. Fancy running into you here,” he said.

“Sure,” Liam said, laughing politely. Jakob smiled, subtly inching closer to Liam.

“Why do you look so sad?” the man asked, tilting his head in false concern. It was false, Liam knew, because whenever Niall thought something was wrong with him, there was no sign of happiness on his face either, and Jakob was still grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“I'm just waiting on my drinks,” Liam told him, looking over and feeling a bit of relief when he saw the bartender nod to him, assuring that he was about to be served.

“They're making you wait?! That's absolutely tragic,” Jakob teased with a wink, though Liam didn't find it amusing. He didn't show that and forced another smile himself.

“Are you seriously here alone?” Jakob continued.

“My mum is here somewhere,” Liam said.

“Clubbing with your mum? Fuck, mate, I wish my mum was cool like that.”

To his gratitude, Liam was saved from replying to that remark by the bartender setting his drinks in front of him and apologizing for his wait. Liam thanked and tipped him, and then picked up the glasses, taking a big swig from his own before saying to Jakob,

“Anyway, I need to go find my mum. This is her drink.”

“Do you mind if Dylan and I join?” Jakob asked quickly, before Liam could make an escape.

“You and Dylan want to hang out with my mom and me?” Liam verified, wondering how that sounded fun in anyone's world.

“It's been too long since we've done anything, Li,” Jakob said with a charming smile and a strange glint in his eye. Liam thought he had to have underlying meaning to his words, but he didn't have the energy to find an excuse why that was a terrible idea.

“Sure, I don't care,” he commented with a shrug, and turned, almost running straight into Dylan, Jakob's sort-of boyfriend, who was standing much too close than was socially acceptable. Some of Liam's drink sloshed out and he gazed forlornly at the wet spot on the floor before Dylan spoke.

“Sorry about that,” he said, and Liam saw that he was smiling in much the same way as Jakob.

“You owe me another,” he stated.

“I'm on it,” Dylan assured him. “What is it?”

“It's a Fireball drink, but you can surprise me with something else,” Liam said.

“We have a flight early in the morning,” Jakob noted. “Are you sure you want to be mixing alcohols?”

“I'm sure,” Liam replied. The more alcohols he mixed, the sicker he got, but the more he forgot and didn't feel, so it was worth it, in his opinion. Niall may not agree while sitting next to Liam on the plane the next morning, but if he was going to leave anyway, he might as well give him a good excuse to.

“Alright. I've got a couple good surprises for you, baby,” Dylan said with a wink and then, getting close enough to whisper in Liam's ear, asked, “Can I slip a little extra something in there too?”

“Sure, whatever,” Liam said, backing away because he didn't particularly like the way he felt the other man's breath in his ear even if it was something he typically found enjoyable. The 'little extra something' might do him good, he thought as he ventured off to find his mother, telling the other two to find him when they were ready. He was being a kill joy, which was a far cry from the life of the party the other two knew him as. Party Liam was who everyone liked, and even Liam favored him over the moody slug he was being at the moment.

Darlene was upstairs, talking to a man and smiling so wide that Liam thought her face might crack, but she clapped her hands together when she saw her son walking towards her and put an arm around his waist as she accepted the drink that he was handing her. Liam and the man gave each other disapproving looks and then Darlene excused herself to the stranger, leading Liam to a couch in the corner.

“Sorry about that, baby,” she said, speaking loudly over the music. “I was trying to find you a man to cheer you up, but then that nice gentleman stopped me to compliment my dress.”

Instead of replying, Liam took a drink. Darlene didn't mind.

“I would never cheat on your father, of course,” she continued, “but it's lovely to have someone say nice things to me every now and then.”

“Can you please never mention him again?” Liam asked, meaning his father. "I don't give a fuck what you two do or don't do to each other.”

“Liam!” Darlene gasped, smacking her son's hand. It wouldn't have hurt, but her wedding ring struck his knuckle and Liam jumped, then quickly downed his drink so that she couldn't read any other emotion on his face-and so that he didn't have to think about any of the other things that he was feeling.

That was when the night started to blur. A couple minutes after Liam finished his fireball, Jakob and Dylan returned and Liam drank his new beverage while his mother and the others introduced themselves.

Soon after that, Liam started to feel sick, but he got up and danced with Jakob and Dylan anyway, though only after they pulled him to his feet and all but dragged him to the floor. Liam's dancing was more like falling in between the two of them, but they seemed to enjoy themselves anyway. Their hands roamed over nearly every inch of Liam's body and he felt violated, but knew he had no reason to. He never once asked them to stop and had allowed it to happen many times before, so, naturally, it was just expected of him now. He thought of Niall and started to feel guilty, but then he remembered that he and Niall weren't together and so there was no reason Niall would care about what was happening, unless he did truly love Liam. But it was growing harder for Liam to believe that anyone would ever love him when his mind grew foggier by the minute and there were desperate hands all over his body.

“Hey!” Dylan said loudly in Liam's ear, spinning the other dancer around to face him instead of Jakob. Liam gasped, the tremors in his body growing more violent despite the fact that he wasn't cold. He was actually really, really hot.

“It's too early to fall asleep,” Dylan continued, smiling at Liam and then leaning down to suck his sweaty neck. Liam cringed.

“'M not,” he said, though he thought he may have been leaning against Jakob, very close to unconsciousness.

“Maybe we should take this back to the hotel,” Jakob suggested. “I don't know how much longer he'll last.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dylan agreed, straightening up but putting his arms around Liam's waist. Liam didn't mind if only for the fact that it was keeping him balanced. “Want to come to our room, baby?”

“My mum,” Liam said, looking around for the woman, but there was no way he would be able to make her out. The surrounding club patrons simply looked like a sea of colors and Liam would end up getting sick if he stared too long.

“She left, remember?” Dylan asked. “Said she felt woozy and that she knew we would take good care of you.”

“Oh,” Liam said, and no, he did not remember that ever happening, but it sounded likely enough.

“Come on,” Jakob said, patting Liam's bum a couple of times. He took one hand while Dylan took the other and together, the three left the club.

“I don't 'member my room number,” Liam realized when the three reached their hotel, and the others laughed.

“That's alright,” Jakob said. “You can just crash with us tonight, okay?”

Liam would much rather have gone back to his room-or Niall's more accurately- because, even if he didn't love him, he at least cared for him enough to let him lay in bed with him and cry over how awful he felt mentally and physically, but Liam was on the verge of passing out or getting sick as it was, and so he really just needed a room as soon as possible.

“Fuck, you're so hot,” Dylan told him when the three entered their room, pushing Liam against the door and pressing a sloppy kiss to his lips. Liam nearly gagged in his mouth and a whining sound emitted from his throat.

“It's okay, love,” the other assured him. “We're going to have a great night.”

Dylan pulled Liam to the bed, where Jakob was already waiting, naked.

“No,” Liam said, nearly whining again, and Dylan decided the best way to help him was to pull his shirt off of him.

“Have you never done a threesome before?” Jakob asked, getting to his feet and kissing the back of Dylan's neck while Dylan undressed Liam.

“Have,” Liam said.

“Then there's nothing to worry about. We're clean.”

“Are you?” Dylan asked Liam with a laugh.

“Yes,” Liam said.

“Good. It's alright then.”

It didn't feel alright to Liam, and he pushed back weakly against the two as they led him roughly to the bed, but it didn't do much good. They probably couldn't even feel him fighting back. Liam had never struggled with his muscles or his limbs so much, and frightened tears sprang to his eyes.

“Please,” he begged, trying to sit up as Dylan kissed his chest and Jakob his stomach.

“So hot,” Jakob noted, straddling Liam's legs. The weak man let out a cry.

“No! I meant please no!”

“Jake, hold on, he's freaking out,” Dylan sighed, clearly frustrated.

“I told you not to give him the Molly!” Jakob said, and then he surprised Liam by sitting up and slapping Dylan. In response, Dylan simply laughed and then he grabbed Jakob's face, kissing him. Liam was disturbed, to say the least, but the whole ordeal worked out for him because the other two collapsed onto the bed next to him, tangled up with only each other, and Liam slipped off the bed onto his knees. He didn't have nearly enough energy to get to his feet, so he crawled over to where his pants lay, found his phone and his underwear, and took them both to the bathroom.

It took him a while and much more energy than it should have for him to slip his boxers on, and then he spent a good couple of minutes gagging into the toilet with no results. Though he still felt sick, Liam grabbed the phone that he'd set next to himself and pushed his body back against the counter. Blackness was starting to creep around the edges of his vision, but Liam fought hard against it as he found Niall's contact information for the second time that night and, wishing he'd come up with a better, more serious 'safe word,' Liam typed 'blue balls- InJakob's room' into the text and pressed send. There was a loud whirring sound in his ears before Liam didn't hear anything at all. He started to panic and was about to crawl back out to ask Jakob and Dylan for help, but then a tingling sensation stilled him. A bright light flashed in front of his eyes, and Liam felt himself fall to the side before he lost sense of everything.

 

Liam recalled all of this as he came back to consciousness, before he opened his eyes, and it took him way too long to realize that the whimpering sound he heard was coming from himself.

“Li?”

Immediately, Liam stopped his whimpering. He knew that voice. He loved that voice.

“Ni,” he croaked, opening his eyes and wincing. The lights were bright; much brighter than any hotel's should be.

Except hotels didn't have lights like that on the ceiling and he didn't think there was anything in the hotel that should be making that incessant beeping sound.

Opening his eyes again, Liam realized that he was in the hospital and he jolted, trying and failing to sit up.

“Hey, hey, sh, relax,” Niall said, standing from his chair and hurrying to sit next to Liam on his bed instead. “Thank all that is holy, Li; I didn't think you were ever going to wake.”

“What happened?”

“What's the last thing you remember?”

“Um...I remember texting you and feeling funny, and then I passed out.”

“Okay. Well, you had a seizure. We think you actually had two, but I was only there for one. I-Zayn and I, actually- reached Jakob's room and found you unconscious in the bathroom. You were nearly gray and completely unresponsive, so Zayn was already calling the ambulance anyway, but then you started...”

Niall paused, taking a deep breath and swallowing hard.

“You started seizing.”

Liam swore that the other man was fighting tears, but then he wasn't so sure because after he'd looked away and then back, there was no trace of the glint that had been in his eyes. They were slightly red and puffy, but exhaustion could do that, and Liam assumed he'd been in the hospital with him for all or most of the night because he was a good person like that.

“I need to go tell them you're awake,” Niall spoke again when Liam didn't say anything. He didn't have any idea what to say. “Do you need anything?”

Liam shook his head. Niall stood.

“I'll get your family too,” he said. “Your aunt and uncle, and Nicola and Ruth, have been here with you all night and just went down to the cafeteria literally five minutes before you woke.”

“You don't need to get them,” Liam said, refusing to look at Niall anymore, suddenly feeling shame. What were Karen, Geoff and the girls going to think? Surely, they wouldn't tell Liam that he belonged anymore. He was more of a disaster than they'd ever thought and now that things had escalated to the point that they did-now that Liam was a hindrance more than just an annoyance-he doubted they wanted to claim him as theirs anymore.

“Actually, I was under strict orders to fetch them if anything changed,” Niall told him, and then gently lifted Liam's chin with his finger, studying his face intently.

“What?” Liam asked, feeling self-conscious at the way Niall began to frown.

“Your eyes still look cloudy,” the other man replied.

“I'm just tired,” Liam told him, and he was so, so tired. Niall nodded.

“I'll be back,” he assured the other, and then left the room, glancing back a couple of times before rounding the corner and disappearing. Liam sighed, falling back against the pillows and letting his eyes close and his head fall to the side.

He was nearly asleep when a loud, deep voice asked,

“Mr. Payne?”

Liam jolted upright, blinking his bleary eyes into focus as the presumed doctor walked over to check his vitals.

“I'm Dr. Meyers,” the man spoke, confirming Liam's suspicions. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine. Just tired,” Liam answered.

“That is perfectly normal. Are you aware of why you're in here?”

“Yeah. Niall told me.”

“He also told you that your seizures were a cause of alcohol poisoning then?”

“No...not that part,” Liam said, and he thought his seizures probably had more to do with the drug Dylan had given him, but he wasn't going to outright say that. His head was still a little fuzzy, but he wasn't completely stupid. Just mostly.

“You're going to be fine,” Dr. Meyers stated. “However, I would like to give you a list of resources to help with any possible alcohol abuse or addiction situations.”

“I'm not addicted to alcohol,” Liam snapped.

“I'm not insinuating that you are,” the older man continued. “It's standard procedure. I'll give you the list, but what you do after that point is up to you.”

Liam rolled his eyes, but didn't otherwise respond, and the doctor carried on.

“You were extremely dehydrated when you were brought in last night, so we gave you an IV, but I'm going to need you to drink some water and make sure that you can keep it down.”

“Wait, did I get sick?” Liam asked. That would explain the strange, disgusting taste in his mouth that he'd assumed to be an after-effect of the seizure.

“Yep,” a female spoke from the doorway. Ruth. “All over yourself.”

“Oh my god,” Liam said, suddenly wanting to cry. The girl showed no mercy.

“And then you pissed yourself,” she told him.

“Ruth, that was unnecessary,” Karen scolded while the doctor hurried to tell Liam that both things were perfectly normal and even expected when one had seizures. Liam believed him, but it still didn't help his humiliation any.

Dr. Meyers instructed Liam to drink the water that he'd placed on his nightstand and said that he would return soon. After telling Liam to buzz if he needed anything at all, the older man went on his way, leaving Liam with only his family, minus his mother.

“I told you it was stupid to invite her along,” Ruth continued, and Liam didn't have to ask who she was talking about.

“Roo, it's not the time,” Nicola said, but her sister ignored her.

“What did you think was going to happen?” she asked her cousin. “Did you think she was going to magically learn how to be a mum and that you two were going to become best friends? Did you think she would leave your dad and somehow find a way to make up for all the things she let you go through and that she herself put you through? Did you think she cared enough to do that? Did you-”

“Ruth, enough!” Geoff snapped harshly, and Liam had never seen him raise his voice with the girls and so he wasn't surprised when Ruth immediately stopped talking.

“You really didn't need to say any of that,” Nicola said, making her way to Liam's bed and sitting down next to him. He'd started to cry sometime during Ruth's rant and, though that raised his humiliation even more, he was too tired to fight it and he openly cried as his oldest cousin pulled him into a side hug. Ruth remained silent as Karen came to join the cuddle session next and Geoff took a seat in the chair closest to Liam's bed. When Ruth did finally speak again, her voice was softer.

“I'm sorry, Liam,” she sighed, moving forward to stand at the foot of his bed, twisting her hands nervously in front of her. “I was just-I am so scared and I want to be mad at you because it makes it easier to deal with, but I'm not really. I'm just so scared and I can't think about anything happening to you.”

“I'm sorry,” Liam said through his tears, turning to hug his aunt tightly, though he was speaking to all of them.

“We're just glad you're okay,” Karen said, kissing the top of her nephew's head.

“I don't want to see her anymore,” the dancer said next, gasping for breath in the next instant.

“You heard him, Roo,” Nicola said. “Shoo.”

“Not her!” Liam exclaimed, snorting rather unattractively due to the fact that he was pretty snotty at the moment. His family was kind enough not to comment. “Mum. Darlene.”

“You don't have to see her again,” Karen assured him. “Her flight was this morning.”

“She...She already left?”

His family's silence said it all, and Liam's tears came even harder than they already were as sheer hurt pierced through him. He hadn't wanted to see the woman again, but he'd wanted it to be completely his decision. She shouldn't get to be the one to turn her back this time. Liam shouldn't have to feel this pain because of her again.

“I'm sorry it didn't turn out like you'd wanted it to, sweetie,” Karen said gently, rubbing Liam's back like she had that very first night he'd arrived at their home to stay permanently. Geoff had picked him up from a gas station that night and hadn't said a word, just drove a bawling Liam to his family's place. Karen, on the other hand, had been prepared with all of the right words. As soon as Liam walked through the door, he was in her arms as she rubbed his back, kissed his head and told him that they loved him no matter what and that he always had a home with them.

Back then, Liam had been too hurt to allow her words in, and it seemed that, until that moment, he'd never really accepted what she was saying.

“It's okay,” Liam told her after a minute, sighing as his tears slowed and he worked to catch his breath. “I-I never thanked you guys for-for being my true family. My true mum and dad and sisters.”

As he spoke, he looked at all of them. Nicola smiled widely at the mention of being his sister, but Ruth physically jolted before tears started pouring down her face.

“Fuck, I love you, you idiot,” she said, jumping on Liam's bed-and causing him to groan-before crawling over and stealing him away from both Karen and Nicola to wrap him in a tight hug.

“I love you too,” Liam said, as a voice, echoing from the previous night, told him that he was unlovable, but he pushed it away and allowed the warmth of his family to envelop him.

***Harry***

Louis was basically the sweetest person that Harry had ever met, but he was also fiercely protective of those he loved, and so he barged into the hospital, carrying all of his luggage, with purpose. He'd been extremely quiet on the flight, a mixture of worry, anger and sadness on his face, but Harry hadn't really wanted to talk anyway. He was less angry, but nearly sick with worry and overwhelmed by sadness and also guilt. Though he knew that both Louis and Liam would tell him he had nothing to feel guilty about if he made it known, Harry couldn't help it. No, he hadn't been the one to force Liam to drink so much that he'd gotten alcohol poisoning, but he hadn't been there to tell him not to either. Of course, that, too, was beyond his control. Good boyfriends supported their boyfriends and that was what Harry had been doing, in a completely other state with Louis.

Harry supposed that it wasn't the events of that particular night that made him feel like he should have done more. It was just that, at the moment, he was realizing how long it had been since he'd really talked to Liam. Sure, Harry was busy with Louis and his own problems and Liam had been tied up with Niall, but Harry and Liam were still best friends and Liam had tried to make conversation; asking how Harry was doing or even making a comment about the show or complimenting Harry's makeup, but Harry would drop the conversation quickly because he didn't want to have to talk about himself.

_Selfish, Harry. You're so selfish._

“Hey,” Louis said softly; the first time he'd spoken on the plane, as he wiped the single tear that was sliding down Harry's cheek. “I know it's scary, but Beatrice said he's going to be fine.”

“I know,” Harry said, “but I can't believe it fully until I see him.”

“I know how you feel,” Louis agreed, patting Harry's hand, and that was that.

“Bee!” Louis called from more than a hundred feet away when he spotted his tour manager in the distance. Harry followed, struggling to keep up despite the fact that his legs were much longer than Louis's, but, luckily for him, Beatrice met them halfway.

“He's doing alright,” she answered the unspoken question. “He hasn't woken yet, but all of his vitals are good and he responds to touch.”

“Who all is with him?”

“His aunt, uncle and cousins are in the room now. Niall and Zayn are here somewhere as well.”

“His mum?”

“Her flight is early; says she needs to rest up for it.”

“You told her that she's welcome to stay here with Liam as long as she needs, right?”

“Yes. She says she must get back to England.”

Louis blew air out of his mouth, looking positively furious, but he collected himself quickly.

“What about Jakob and Dylan?” Louis asked. “You said he was in their room. What the hell was going on there?”

“They said they took him to their room to get something going between the lot of them, but that Liam didn't want to and locked himself in the bathroom. He sent Niall a text from in there and the next thing they knew, Niall and Zayn were knocking on their door. They let them in, found Liam unresponsive in the bathroom and while they were calling the ambulance, he started seizing.”

“That doesn't sound a little weird to you?” the singer questioned, his arms crossed over his chest and his lips forming a tight line when he wasn't speaking.

“I don't think so,” Beatrice said. “They were all very drunk and, we're assuming, under influences of another sort, but they swear they were with him all night and all they had was alcohol. Since he's stable, the doctor hasn't found it necessary to test him.”

Louis rolled his eyes, shooting a quick glance to Harry before looking back at Beatrice.

“Well, thanks for calling me, Bumble Bee,” he said, making his way to a nearby chair to sit down. Harry joined him.

“You two should really go and get some rest,” Beatrice suggested. “I'm about to look at available flights you can take later on today and I'm going to try to make it for a comfortable time, but I can't promise anything.”

“I'm not flying anywhere until we know for sure that he's okay,” Louis said, looking at the woman like she'd lost her mind.

“The doctor said he's fine, but I doubt he'll be fit for the next show. When he's released and gets the okay, I will make sure he re-joins us, but you must perform tonight, Louis.”

“I'm not leaving this hospital until he's awake and I can talk to him,” Louis told her. Beatrice sighed, but she apparently knew it was no good to argue because she took out her phone and excused herself to 'see what she could do.' Louis sighed again and Harry leaned forward to kiss his shoulder before resting his head on his boyfriend. In turn, Louis laid his head on top of Harry's.

“I'm scared,” Harry admitted.

“Me too,” Louis said, taking Harry's hand in his.

Only a few minutes later, Zayn and Niall joined the pair. Niall had obviously been crying and Louis gave him a hug before he sat down. Zayn congratulated Louis on his award and the singer thanked him but, besides that, the group didn't say much.

Finally, just after eight in the morning, Niall told them that Liam had woken. Once the doctor checked him out and Liam's family spent a few minutes with him, his uncle came to tell them all that he was still tired, but that he was going to make a complete recovery and would likely be released that afternoon or evening.

Beatrice, hoping for the best, had scheduled Louis, Harry, Zayn and Niall a flight for around two, but before they all left the hospital, and after Liam had a nap in, they were allowed to go in and see their friend, who smiled as they entered the room. Exhaustion was finally starting to hit Harry and his legs were weak, but he drudged up enough energy to keep going. The last thing he wanted to do was collapse and make everyone worried over him for no reason when Liam was there with something actually wrong with him.

Harry's stomach growled but he crossed his arms and pressed against it, making it inaudible.

“Hey, Wild Child,” Zayn greeted, rubbing Liam's head and causing his hair to stick up more than it already was. Liam laughed, batting his mate's hands away and attempting to fix his hair.

“That was rude,” the patient teased.

“It was rude of you to vomit all over me while I was making sure you didn't choke on your tongue, but you don't see me calling you out, do you?”

Liam glared while Niall smacked Zayn upside the head. Before the play-fight could escalate further, Louis changed the subject.

“I know you're probably tired of this question, but how are you feeling?” he asked, standing at the foot of Liam's bed and studying the man carefully.

“I'm okay,” Liam said. “I'll be good soon. I didn't know you two were here. Weren't you just in California a few hours ago?”

“Were we? That seems like forever ago,” Louis said, giving Harry a quick smile. Looking back to Liam, he said, “We had to make sure you were alright.”

“I'm sure that took a lot of rearranging. You didn't really have to.”

“Yes we did,” Harry disagreed. Liam smiled, then leaned forward to adjust the pillows behind his back (with Niall rushing to help.) Once he was comfortable, Liam sighed.

“So,” he said, “you have to tell me all about the award show. Who all did you see? Was it amazing?”

 

The boys couldn't visit with Liam for long since they had a flight to catch. Zayn and Niall still had to go back to the hotel to pack and Louis and Harry decided to go with them and use one of their bathrooms to freshen up. Harry wasn't sure how Beatrice had managed to extend their check-out time when they were all supposed to have been out that morning, but then he remembered that money could do almost anything.

Louis was quiet again on the way to the hotel and Harry wasn't going to press him to talk around the others, so he simply stared at his boyfriend worriedly the entire time. Louis would give him a small smile every now and then, but Harry didn't believe it.

To save time, Louis showered in Niall's room while Harry went to Zayn's to get ready. Louis gave Harry a quick kiss on the forehead before they parted, and Harry didn't really mind because he was pretty gross at the moment, but it still frightened him. Louis was too emotionally distant for his comfort and, while Harry didn't like to be the needy boyfriend, sometimes he couldn't help it.

Zayn let out a loud yawn as they entered the room, collapsing onto his bed and closing his eyes.

“Um, sorry, but we have to leave in forty-five minutes,” Harry commented, feeling bad because he knew Zayn had had a night that was just as long or longer than he had, but everyone's nerves were already high and running late would only make it worse.

“Wake me up when you're out of the shower,” Zayn asked, and so Harry agreed.

Though he knew he couldn't take long in the shower, Harry stood there for a couple of minutes, just letting the water wash over him. He didn't break down and cry like he often did when he allowed himself to feel what he usually kept down inside, but instead enjoyed the solitude. He loved Louis, of course, and he loved his friends, but he grew tired of keeping up a smile and forcing the expected interactions. It was exhausting to be asked if he was alright every time his 'happy' face faltered for even a moment. Harry wasn't a loner, but he still enjoyed being alone most of the time, when he let himself.

Just those few minutes of solitude that he got while in the shower refreshed him, and he felt good as he and Zayn made their way to Niall's room, where they agreed to meet Niall and Louis. That feeling quickly evaporated, though, when Louis opened the door and Harry was met with his swollen, red eyes.

“What happened?” the dancer asked immediately, his face falling. As usual, Louis smiled to the best of his ability.

“Nothing,” he answered and then, pointing with this thumb to Niall, said, “This bloke started in and I'm tired and a sympathetic crier, so it was really just a lost cause from there.”

Harry leaned down, pressing a kiss to Louis's lips, and the singer smiled, for real that time.

“You can sleep on the plane,” Harry said.

“I think I will,” Louis agreed. “Is everybody ready? Beatrice reminded me that none of us have eaten for an extremely long time and she wants us to make time to stop and get something on the way.”

Louis looked at Harry with apology in his eyes as he folded his boyfriend's hands together and kissed them, but Harry managed a smile. He'd forgotten that he'd been hungry for a while and while that, of course, didn't typically bother him, he knew he needed his energy to keep Louis from the edge he'd seen him walk on once before.

“Yeah, babe. Let's go,” Harry said. Looking relieved, Louis hugged Harry around the middle quickly, kissed his chest, then picked up both his and Harry's bags and led the way out.

***Niall***

Niall wasn't typically an over-emotional man. He wasn't afraid of his feelings and could show them when the time was appropriate, but he wouldn't have broken down crying at the sight of Liam's shoes on the floor on just any given day. He didn't let himself become too embarrassed, though, because he knew, while a bit extreme, his feelings were still rational. He was exhausted and relieved, but still scared. He was angry; mostly at Liam's mom, Jakob and Dylan. Though he knew that Liam was a grown man and could be held accountable for his own actions, he couldn't find it in himself to put much of the blame on his love. There was still a part of him that was child-like, screaming for attention and nurturing; the part that had been abandoned when he had still physically been a child. Niall was beginning to think that was much of what made Liam so self-destructive. If he hurt himself enough, someone else would be forced to pick up the pieces, or else the worst would happen.

The worst almost happened last night, and Niall was sure he wouldn't get much peaceful sleep for the next few nights as the events played over and over in his mind; his heart pounding as he waited for someone to open the door to Jakob's room, the anger and hurt he felt when they opened up, nearly naked with obvious love bites on themselves, the fear that had overcome him when he found Liam laying unresponsive on the floor and then the sheer terror he'd felt when the seizure had started. Finally, after everything had calmed down and Liam was resting comfortably (according to the doctors) in his bed, the sadness had hit. Niall had let himself become too optimistic again, thinking that Liam was getting better just like that. He wasn't better. He'd been distracted. Niall had served as a preoccupation, but the minute he wasn't there, Liam was back to his old self; flirting, fucking and self-medicating.

Okay, so Jakob and Dylan had claimed that Liam wanted nothing to do with their menage a trois, and Niall guessed he believed them, but he had to wonder if Liam would have been into it if he hadn't been at the extreme level of intoxication he had been. Niall knew he had no room to be hurt. Liam had warned him that this was exactly what he was like. He didn't want to commit. He wasn't the 'happily ever after' guy. Still, Niall had hoped so much that he'd convinced himself that it was false.

Staring at Liam's shoes, Niall almost felt like the worst _had_ happened, even though he knew better. Liam was perfectly fine, he'd seen so himself. Niall and Zayn had gotten there in time; the ambulance had arrived at just the right moment. They'd saved Liam.

But what about next time?

“Are you okay?” Louis asked, even as his own voice cracked, and Niall turned to him, surprised to find a few tears on his cheeks as well. Niall didn't doubt Louis's love for his friends, but he hadn't expected this reaction from him, unless it was something else.

“Yeah,” Niall answered with a laugh, wiping his own eyes. “Sorry. Just tired and...it was a crazy night.”

“I can't even imagine,” Louis said, visibly shuddering.

“What about you?” Niall asked. “What's wrong?”

“Tired,” Louis said as well, with a smile. “And scared for Liam, but also because this just got me thinking...I knew he was a partier and all, but I didn't think it would go this far. I'd thought he was doing a lot better, actually, and then this happened.”

“You spoke my mind,” Niall sighed.

“And, like, I don't want to turn this around on anyone except Liam, but it just has me freaked out because that could be Harry if his demons ever come out at full force.”

It was Niall's turn to shudder, that thought traumatizing him nearly as much as the previous night's events had because what Louis said was truer than he wanted to admit.

“We can't let that happen,” he said.

“We didn't mean to let it happen to Liam either,” Louis pointed out, looking sadder than Niall had ever seen.

“We've learned,” Niall said. “Liam had us all fooled, whether he meant to do it or not. Harry...when he says he's doing fine, I want to believe him, but I think it's healthy if we keep that little bit of doubt, just enough to not let our guards down.”

Louis nodded, but he didn't seem at all comforted.

“I just want them to be happy,” the singer said softly.

“I know. Me too.”

Louis sighed, covering his face as he took a few deep, relaxing breaths. He then excused himself to take a shower and Niall took that time to pull himself together. His tears stopped, at least, but he still felt a heavy sadness as he packed the things Liam had left in his room, knowing they would be going to their next destination with him, but Liam wouldn't.

 

The plane ride was long. The flight itself was just over two hours, but it felt as if it dragged on. Zayn was seated next to Niall, which helped, but it wasn't the same without sharing a book with Liam or playing hangman and staying silent when he lost for the mere reason that Liam hadn't spelled his word right. He didn't like feeling disconnected either since he couldn't use his phone on the plane. Logically, he knew that nothing had likely happened to Liam- _he was fine_ -but he couldn't stop picturing him gray and seizing and then, maybe worse, completely limp. Thus, he couldn't sleep the hours away.

“Do you want to get room service?” Zayn asked as soon as the pair entered Niall's hotel room in Indiana, setting down his bags, picking up the menu on the nearby desk and throwing himself onto the closest bed. Unlike Niall, Zayn had been able to sleep on the flight, but Niall was sure he was still tired. He thought he was going to require a week's rest in order to feel rejuvenated.

“Sure, that's fine,” Niall said, laying down on the other bed and sliding his cell phone out of his pocket.

“What do you want?” Zayn asked next.

“Whatever works.”

“Are you calling Liam?”

“Yeah.”

Zayn gave a small laugh, putting the menu down on the bed as he sat up and stretched.

“You know what? I'll go down and order something. Tell Twitch I said hi.”

“Don't be a dick,” Niall said, throwing a nearby pen at Zayn in the hopes he wouldn't notice that he'd almost made him smile. Zayn cracked himself up for the both of them anyway and was still chuckling as he left the room. Shaking his head, Niall found Liam's hospital room number, which he'd made sure to program into the phone before leaving, and called.

“'Lo?” Liam answered on the third ring. It was amazing how much lighter Niall felt just from hearing his voice, and a wide smile spread across his face as he sat up and leaned against his headboard.

“Hey!” he said, voice a note or two higher than normal. “Did I wake you?”

“No. I'm eating,” Liam explained.

“Anything good?”

“Hospital macaroni and cheese. It's about as good as can be expected.”

“Bummer.”

“Take me to dinner when I'm out of here? Actually…let me take you?”

“I would love that,” Niall said.

“Good. It's a date, though, just so you know.”

Damn it, there were the tears again, but Niall thought they were at least ninety-eight percent happy that time.

“I can't wait,” he told Liam. The other man gave a small chuckle and Niall heard him sip on some liquid before he spoke again.

“Hey, Niall, just so you know, nothing happened with Jakob and Dylan, and nothing was going to. I mean, they tried, but I turned them down. The only reason I was in their room was because I couldn't remember which room either of us were in and I felt like shit. I just wanted to get to a bed and sleep.”

“It's okay,” Niall assured him, feeling infinitely better. Liam could be lying, but Niall knew he had no reason to do that.

“Even at the club, all I could think about was you. I wanted to call, but my-...I was told...Never mind. Anyway, nothing happened.”

“I believe you. Can I ask you something though?”

“Yes.”

“Were you under the influence of something besides alcohol?”

Liam paused, shifting the phone before he answered.

“Um, yeah,” he said. “I let Dylan put something in my drink. I can't remember what it was.”

“Fuck, Liam,” Niall sighed.

“I know. I'm sorry. I was just in a really bad place.”

“Are you okay? Mentally, I mean.”

“Yeah, I'm good.”

Niall wasn't sure he believed that part, but he wasn't going to argue over the phone while Liam was still in the hospital. He would do a more thorough interrogation once Liam was there with him and Niall could hopefully prevent him from getting too mad with some kisses.

“I miss you,” the blonde said instead.

“I miss you too,” Liam said.

“Any word on when you'll get out?”

“Probably in a few hours and they said I can be on a plane as early as tomorrow so I might not even have to miss a show.”

“I think you should rest, but we can discuss this matter later,” Niall commented. Liam laughed.

“Speaking of rest, sir, you sound exhausted.”

“I'm tired,” Niall admitted, growing quite dizzy from just how worn out he was.

“Go to sleep.”

“But I'm talking to you.”

“I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Alright,” Niall sighed dramatically. “I L-word you. Oh, and Zayn says hi.”

“Tell him hi.”

“I'll see you soon.”

“Get some rest, Ni.”

The pair hung up. Niall turned his ring tone on full volume, just in case, and then closed his eyes. He was so tired that he fell asleep even without Liam's snoring.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been on time for, what, three weeks now? Woot woot!
> 
> However, I don't think the next chapter will be up by Tuesday with the holidays coming up. I'm still going to try, but the chances are slim. I'm really sorry, and happy holidays to anyone celebrating anything the rest of this December! :p
> 
> (Although I will be posting again before the new year, don't worry.)


	40. Chapter 40

***Harry***

_When Harry first heard the news, his life changed. It sounded dramatic, but it was the truth._

_The day hadn't been one of Harry's greatest. He'd been too exhausted to focus on much at school and was pretty sure he failed a test because of it. His mates had accused him of acting weird when he skipped lunch to help out in the library and, of course, Harry couldn't tell them that it had nothing to do with them. The hunger pains were more intense than they had been in a while and Harry didn't think he would be strong enough to resist the terrible, fattening cafeteria food if he so much as smelled a hint of grease; a theory that was proven true when he got home and his sister had pizza waiting for him. Harry hadn't meant to eat anymore than half a piece and, truthfully, he didn't know how he managed to down two whole slices when he gagged with every bite, but he did._

_By the time he finished his two slices, Harry wasn't sure that Gemma-or her friends, who were all staring at him-had even eaten one, and his face burned, though not as painfully as his stomach._

_“Hungry, were you?” one of her friends asked incredulously, and Gemma was quick to shush her, but the damage had been done. Harry laughed nervously, put his plate in the sink and hurried upstairs._

“ _Harry, wait!” Gemma called, running after her brother and placing a hand on his shoulder as he reached the top step. “She didn't mean anything by it,” the girl continued as_ _the_ _f_ _ifteen_ _-year-old b_ _oy_ _turned around and forced a smile, hoping his true emotions would be hidden. “Please, don't do anything. I'm so proud of you for eating just now.”_

_“I'm not going to do anything,” Harry told his sister. “It's fine. Don't worry.”_

_“You sure?” Gemma asked, studying the boy's face carefully. Harry put all of his effort into not letting a single muscle twitch._

_“I promise,” he said._

_After a brief hesitation, the girl nodded, letting go of her brother's shoulder._

_“Good,” she said. “I love you, little bro.”_

_“I love you too.”_

_Gemma hugged Harry, and he hugged her back, and then the sister went back down to her friends as the boy entered his room. He closed the door except for a crack and turned on his television, then waited precisely four minutes-just the amount of time he needed to be reassured that Gemma wouldn't come right back up and see if he was keeping true to his word. It was the longest four minutes of his life, as well as one of the most painful physically, but, finally, Harry allowed himself to sneak out of his bedroom, closing the door behind him, and tiptoe to his parents' bathroom, where he was less likely to be heard._

 

 _“...Girls all around the world have had their hearts broken today,” the entertainment news reporter on Harry's television was claiming as the boy made his way weakly back into his bedroom._ _Harry glanced to the TV set and looked away, not particularly caring why girls were supposedly having their hearts broken until his slow brain registered that it had been a picture of Louis on the screen,_ _accompanying the words._ _Once it did, Harry looked back to the television almost quickly enough to give himself minor whiplash._

_“The eighteen-year-old singer and heart throb came out as gay during an interview earlier today. When asked if he had any certain girl inspiring his latest single, 'Your Loss,' the pop star replied with, 'No, but there was a boy.' When questioned further, he admitted that he is, in fact, gay.”_

_Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd truly smiled before that moment._

 

_When Harry's parents returned home from work that night, they called their two children down for dinner, but Harry insisted he wasn't hungry. Luckily, Gemma vouched for him, telling their mom and dad that he'd eaten a couple pieces of pizza with her earlier. She hadn't said it to make Harry feel bad, he knew, but still, it did. Harry had shown true gluttony earlier. He'd thought he'd passed the stage of his diet where he sometimes rebelled and let himself binge, but apparently, he'd been wrong. His parents seemed happy, though, so while they ate the leftovers that had been set aside for them and Gemma got herself a bowl of ice cream, they were perfectly content with Harry sitting at the table, twiddling his thumbs uncomfortably, just the smell of the pizza making him nauseous._

_“Oh, Haz, did you hear about your boyfriend?” Gemma asked after a couple minutes of silence, perking up and looking quite pleased with herself._

_“My what?” Harry asked, because he didn't have a boyfriend and hadn't even come out to his family yet._

_“Your pop star boyfriend. Louis T.”_

_That was who Harry thought she'd been talking about and he smiled remembering the earlier news._

_“Yeah, I heard,” he told her._

_“What happened?” Anne asked curiously, looking between her two children with much more concern than Harry thought was necessary._

_“He's gay,” Gemma said._

_“Now, Gem, just because a boy likes to dress well and is a little more feminine than your typical teenage man doesn't mean he's gay,” the woman said._

_“I know that,” Gemma replied, sounding offended that her mother would accuse her of being so stereotypical. Harry bit the insides of his cheek, fighting another smile. If no one else, he knew his sister would still love him when he came out._

_Suddenly, he was overwhelmed with the urge to just say it._

_Gemma continued, “But he told everyone today that he is. The kid's out of the closet.”_

_“Oh,” Anne said, her concerned face turning to one of shock. “Well, that's good for him.”_

_“_ _Still a fan, Harry?” Gemma asked with a teasing wink._

_“Of course,” Harry said and then, taking a deep breath, added “I can at least pretend I have a chance now, can't I?”_

_His parents' eyes widened, his dad forgetting to chew the bite of pizza he'd just taken for a couple of moments while his mother paused with her glass at her lips. It would have been comical if Harry wasn't so damn nervous._

_Until the age of thirteen, Harry hadn't felt attraction to anyone, regardless of sex. Then, one day, while he was at the park, a guy slightly older than him had arrived with a group of his friends to play basketball in the court close to where Harry had been sitting. He'd been loud, but Harry didn't think that was what kept his eyes roaming time and time again to the stranger...or to his ripped biceps that were clearly visible in his tank top. Harry and the basketball player made eye contact only once, but when they did, Harry's heart skipped a beat, and suddenly, he knew._

_He tried to pretend for a while. Harry paid more attention to girls after that incident in the park, forcing himself to admire Sophie from English class's eyes or Leslie from Art's lips. In a final desperate attempt, he spent an indecent amount of time staring at Alaina in P.E.'s butt and boobs, trying to convince himself that he was attracted to her when, really, it had been Benjamin's perky butt in his tight gym shorts that had gotten him riled up in the first place._

_Then Louis T. had risen to fame and that had been that. Harry was in love. Louis was absolutely perfect, both appearance and personality-wise. Not once had Harry ever been convinced otherwise, so, if there was nothing wrong with Louis being gay, then that meant there was nothing wrong with him being gay either. Before, it had just served as another reminder to Harry that he was abnormal, but now he knew that, sometimes, it was okay to be different._

_Though it felt like an eternity to Harry, his parents didn't remain stunned into silence long. After only two or three seconds, his father resumed chewing and his mother took a drink of her water before patting Harry's hand and saying,_

_“Louis would be lucky to have you, dear.”_

 

 _ **Yeah, Louis sure is lucky to have me**_ , Harry thought to himself sarcastically as he stood from his knees on the bathroom floor and began to rinse out his mouth. _He's so lucky to have a lying, insane, ugly cow for a boyfriend._

After using mouthwash, Harry went to lay on the bed and text his mother good morning, despite the fact that it was nearing afternoon where she was, refusing to think of how she would feel if she knew what he'd just done. It wasn't like Harry purged all that often anymore. He rarely had an opportunity, but Louis had gone to have a meeting with Beatrice, Jakob and Dylan shortly after breakfast. Harry had known he would be gone and so had allowed himself to eat an entire croissant that morning. He also refused to acknowledge how much pride had been in Louis's eyes before he'd kissed him and told him he loved him.

The conversation that Harry had with his mom was short, but sweet. She didn't ask how he was doing in terms with his disorder, but instead had asked how Harry was feeling on his new medication. Harry had told her that he was feeling really good and she'd left it at that, beginning to text him about mundane events from home that weren't important but that Harry enjoyed hearing about nonetheless.

Just as the chat with Anne started to slow, Harry heard a key card being inserted into the door and then he heard Louis sigh loudly as he entered.

“Welcome back, babe!” Harry called, not budging from his position on the bed, but offering a smile when his boyfriend rounded the corner, looking exhausted. Still, since he was Louis, the singer smiled too and joined Harry on the bed, sighing again as he buried his head into the pillow. Harry patted his bum and Louis laughed, rolling onto his side and then smiling genuinely.

“Hi, love.”

“How did the meeting go?” Harry asked.

“It was okay, I guess. Their stories line up with Liam's, so there's not really anything we can do. They're all at fault, but it's the entertainment industry. People will drink and do drugs. If I tested all of my crew, I'd have no one left.”

“You'd have me,” Harry said, booping Louis's nose.

“That's all I need, really,” the singer said, kissing Harry's finger tip.

“Might not make for as entertaining of a show, though.”

“I don't know. We won 'hottest couple' on some online poll for the award show. Some are even eagerly awaiting our sex tape to be leaked.”

“Oops, guess I better be more careful about where I keep my collection then. If people are going to see, it's going to be for the right price.”

Louis giggled, but then grimaced.

“Fuck, my head hurts,” he said.

“Is it a needing medication and sleep kind of hurt, or is it a stress headache that I can help with?” Harry asked, gliding his hand up along Louis's thigh and causing him to squirm.

“I mean...you could always try, if you're feeling so inclined.”

Smiling, Harry threw himself across Louis's waist, not putting his full weight on him until Louis gently guided his hips down. Harry helped Louis get his shirt off and began to scatter kisses all along his collarbone. Louis moaned more than once, and Harry was actually quite proud of himself. Maybe he was a lying, insane, ugly cow but he was able to convince Louis's body otherwise pretty easily.

“I think it's safe to say that your new pills aren't having any negative effect on your libido,” Louis said, undoing Harry's trousers for him.

“Not yet,” the dancer answered, swallowing against the repressed guilt that had started to bubble as he thought of the pill he'd flushed down the toilet that morning...and the morning before that...and the one before that…

“I love you so much,” Louis breathed as Harry worked on undressing himself.

“Love you,” Harry returned, trying to hide his panic as the guilt overtook his lust.

“You okay?” Louis asked, reaching out a hand, but Harry flinched back against the touch.

“Yeah, I'm good,” he said. “Um, I'm going to go get the lube.”

“It's right here, babe,” Louis said, contorting his body to open the drawer of his nightstand without forcing Harry off of him.

“Oh, yeah. Right,” Harry said, looking deep into Louis's beautiful eyes and then across his soft, tan skin, down to his protruding collarbones, his defined biceps, his abs…

“Babe?” Louis asked, tilting his head in concern.

“I think you jinxed me,” Harry said with a nervous laugh. “It will be fine...Just...”

Shaking his head, ashamed of himself, Harry kissed Louis feverishly. Louis's fingers twirled around his curls, pulling, and Harry usually loved that, but it was like he couldn't even feel it then. The cry that came from his throat without his permission only served to humiliate him more.

“Babe, babe, hold on. It's okay,” Louis said, sitting up. Harry collapsed onto the bed beside him, pressing his fists against his eyelids because the last thing he wanted at that moment was to cry, like he was so close to doing.

“Harry?” Louis asked after a moment.

“Hm?”

“It's really okay, love. Will you look at me?”

“No.”

Louis was quiet and then Harry jumped as a pair of lips touched his thigh lightly. He didn't uncover his eyes, but he also didn't protest as Louis worked on kissing and licking his thigh, all to no avail.

“We're both exhausted,” Louis rationalized, sitting up and giving up.

“I'm sorry,” Harry said.

“You don't have anything to apologize for.”

“It's not you.”

“I know.”

“I wanted to.”

“Maybe after we take a nap, yeah?”

“Maybe.”

Harry doubted it.

The dancer felt the other man collapse next to him and Louis kissed his shoulder before becoming still. Finally uncovering his eyes, Harry was happy to see that Louis's were closed and he let one single tear slip down his own cheek. These things happened to all men sometimes, he knew, but Harry couldn't help from feeling like he'd failed Louis. He stressed him out, he knew, so he was doing a piss poor job of taking care of his emotional needs and now he couldn't even take care of his physical ones.

Sitting up, Harry scooted himself to the end of the bed and got to his feet. Immediately, Louis's eyes opened and he jolted, looking around until his eyes locked with his boyfriend's.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To get you something for your head,” Harry said. Louis nodded, looking at Harry with something unidentifiable in his eyes before laying back down. Harry hurried to Louis's bag and pulled out a bottle of Aspirin, dumping a couple of pills into the palm of his hand before he tucked the medicine away. Next, he went to the bathroom to get Louis a cup of water. Harry's own pills were still sitting on the counter and he stared at the bottle, which, if he didn't know better, would say was calling out for him, before he gave in and sighed. Setting Louis's pills on the counter's surface, Harry dumped one of his own into his palm and stared at it, took a few deep breaths and tossed it into his mouth, tilting his head back to allow it to go down his throat.

Now that the first one was taken, it was tempting for Harry to take two, three, or four more. He didn't want to take enough to sleep forever; just for a while, but he knew he couldn't do that to Louis on top of what he was already doing to him-and not doing to him-and so he stopped at one. He took a couple drinks of water from the tap before filling up a cup for Louis, drying off his hands and mouth and then going back to his boyfriend.

“Here you go, love,” he said, speaking softly in case Louis had already fallen asleep, but the singer opened his eyes immediately and sat up to take the medicine and the glass from Harry.

“Thanks, doll,” Louis said after he'd taken the couple of pills, cupping Harry's face in his hands and placing a loud kiss to his lips. Harry let out a small laugh.

“You're welcome,” he replied. “Hope it helps.”

“I'll be alright,” Louis assured him.

“You better be,” Harry said with a wink. Louis smiled and then laid back down, patting the spot next to him for Harry, who laid as well.

“I want to take you on vacation when the tour is over,” the singer said. “Not right away, of course, because we'll want to rest, but soon after. Like, maybe next summer?”

“Are you going to want me around that long?” Harry asked, making sure he sounded teasing even though he wasn't, really.

“As long as you want to be,” Louis said.

“I love you,” Harry told him. Louis smiled so wide that he seemed to hurt his own head and grimaced again, but then went right back to smiling.

“I'm in love with you, tiny dancer.”

***Liam***

_**You can't like him, you can't like him, you can't like him.** _

_The mantra played over and over in Liam's head as he lay in bed, waiting for Niall to text him and tell him that he'd made it back to his dorm okay. Surely, what Liam was feeling wasn't a crush or anything even remotely close. The happy feeling he'd had in his chest with Niall was simply there because the other man had been nice to him without expecting anything in return; something that Liam wasn't used to. Liam wasn't too proud to admit to himself that he was attention starved, and this new form of attention that Niall was giving him was simply something he wasn't used to; something he liked. That was it. He liked the attention, not Niall._

_Liam had been at Niall's dorm all evening, having sex with Adam, his room mate. It had been Niall who had opened the door for Liam and greeted him with a smile._

_“How are you?” Liam had asked as he stepped in, rubbing his cold hands together. He'd had gloves on, but they hadn't done much to protect against the bitter November cold. It was actually colder than November should have been, Liam thought._

_“I'm awesome,” Niall answered Liam's question. “How are you?”_

_“Fine.”_

_Liam shut the door as Niall turned, heading to the stove._

_“Dinner is almost ready if you'd like to eat with us,” he offered. Liam was about to tell Niall that he would love to and thank him, but then Adam called out from somewhere in the distance._

_“Liam? Is that you? I'm in the bedroom, babe. Come on back!”_

_Giving Niall an awkward smile (though he didn't know why he felt awkward when Niall knew exactly what he was like), Liam wordlessly turned on his heel and headed to Adam's bedroom. The man was lying across the bed in only his underwear and he smiled seductively when Liam entered._

_“Hey, gorgeous,” he purred. “You cold?”_

_“It's freezing out there,” Liam said, but stripped his coat, gloves and scarf off anyway. They didn't really do much as far as sex appeal went._

_“I'll warm you up,” Adam told him. Liam crawled in bed next to him and Adam locked their lips, a moan escaping his throat as soon as he and Liam made contact._

_“I've been thinking about this all day,” he sighed. Liam still didn't say anything-he didn't need to and, actually, Adam seemed to prefer if he didn't-and the other student kept kissing._

 

_“See you later, Niall,” Liam called with a small wave as he made his way to the front door a little more than two hours later._

_“Is that prick seriously making you leave?” Niall asked from his spot on the couch. He looked cozy, sitting with his feet drawn in as he watched something on television, and Liam almost envied him. Liam could never be comfortable with only his own company._

_“He's not making me,” Liam said. “It's just what I do.”_

_“Well, maybe reconsider for a night,” Niall suggested. “You don't have a car, right? It's snowing and the windchill is nearly in the negatives. Not walking weather.”_

_“I can't stay,” Liam said, even though he was already starting to get goosebumps just thinking of how cold it was going to be outside._

_“Alright,” Niall said, flipping off the TV and getting to his feet. “Let me drive you back to your dorm then. It's a good mile away, at least.”_

_“It's okay. I'll be fine,” Liam told him._

_“I don't really think you will,” Niall said. “Please just let me drive you? It's no trouble.”_

_“Well...okay,” Liam finally agreed after a half a minute of internal debate. Niall smiled._

_“Great. But first, are you hungry? You didn't even get to eat.”_

_Liam was hungry, but he was going to deny it to Niall until his stomach growled._

_“I'll take that as a yes,” the blonde said with a smile. “I made Parmesan chicken, spaghetti and green beans, and there's plenty left over.”_

_“Sounds good,” Liam said, slowly taking off his coat again. Niall smiled._

 

_“Fuck me, it's freezing balls!” Niall gasped when the pair stepped into the cold night. Liam smiled a bit to himself._

_“It might be a little hard to fuck if your balls are frozen.”_

_Niall laughed, quickly unlocking his car and jumping in. Liam climbed into the passenger seat, gritting his jaw so that his teeth wouldn't chatter. Niall, on the other hand, was making a show of how cold he was; his teeth chattering and the man gasping for breath like he really was on the verge of dying from hypothermia. Once he had that out of his system, he cranked on the heat, turned on the radio, buckled his seat belt and began to drive._

_“Aw, man, I love this song!” Liam proclaimed sadly as 'Bad Romance' by Lady Gaga began playing as soon as Niall pulled up to the front of his dorm._

_“You can stay in here until it's over,” Niall offered._

_“Really?”_

_“Of course. I hate when a song I love comes on as soon as I reach my destination.”_

_“It happens to me all the time!”_

_“Me too! It's infuriating!”_

_“Completely!”_

_Niall smiled._ _After a brief pause, Liam spoke again._

_“Have you started your Art History project yet?”_

_“I just started today, actually.”_

_“That's motivation. I admire that.”_

_“Hardly. It's due on Monday, Liam.”_

_“What?! I thought it was due on Wednesday?!”_

_“No...”_

_“Fuck!”_

_“It looks like both of us have a boring weekend ahead of us.”_

_“I refuse to let that stupid class ruin my weekend.”_

_“You know that project is going to take a good five or so hours, right?”_

_“We'll see about that.”_

_Niall raised an eyebrow._

_“How about you come over tomorrow and we can drink while we work? I've been looking for a good excuse to try out some new drink recipes.”_

_“You need an excuse for that?” Liam asked. Niall smiled._

_“It makes me feel better about myself.”_

_“You drink while you do school work. Why don't we hang out more often?”_

_“I don't know,” Niall said, the corners of his mouth twitching up slightly. Liam continued._

_“I'm not sure Adam would let me work on the project if I was over there.”_

_“He's going to be gone all day tomorrow.”_

_“Oh. That works then.”_

_“It's settled then.”_

_Niall gave a quick smile and then changed the subject._

_“Do you have any idea what she's saying in the French part?” he asked of the song._

_“It's 'I want your love and I want your revenge,'” Liam explained. “I looked it up before.”_

_“Oh,” Niall said. “Thank you for telling me. I wonder that every time I hear the song and never think to look it up later.”_

_“It's no problem,” Liam assured him as the song drew to a close. “Thanks for letting me stay in here and listen to it.”_

_“You're welcome.”_

_“And thank you for dinner.”_

_“You're welcome.”_

_“And the ride.”_

_“It was my pleasure.”_

_Liam opened the car door and slid out, leaning down to peek in as he said one last thing._

_“Text me when you make it back safely. You still have my number from when we did the last project together?”_

_“Yeah, I've got it. I'll text you.”_

 

 _**Back in my dorm** _ _, Niall messaged Liam only a couple of minutes after Liam had laid down._

 _**Glad to hear it =]** _ _, Liam replied, and he was. He'd been getting quite worried after he'd gone to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, changed into his pajamas and crawled into bed with no word from the other man._

 _**Have a great night.** _ _**See you tomorrow** _ _, Niall said next._

 _**Sweet dreams,** _ _Liam said back before putting his phone on silent and closing his eyes._

_**You can't like him, you can't like him, you can't like him.**_

 

_**You can't love him, you can't love him, you can't love him.** _

Liam really shouldn't have felt so lonely just hanging up the phone with Niall. He wasn't alone at all. Nicola and Ruth were in the room and Geoff and Karen had promised to be right back. He had doctors and nurses coming in and out to check on him at an annoying rate. He was anything but alone, but he still felt lonely.

“He really cares about you,” Nicola said.

“Who?” Liam asked.

“Niall, obviously.”

“Yeah, he's my mate,” Liam said lamely. He nearly cringed at his own words.

“I bet if he had it his way, he wouldn't just be a 'mate,'” Ruth commented.

“Hey, would you two say that I have a free spirit?” Liam asked then. The girls frowned at the change of subject.

“I guess that's one way of putting it,” Ruth finally answered.

“And do you think free spirits can ever truly be loved?”

“Where is this coming from?” Nicola asked instead of replying, the frown still on her face.

“Mum...Darlene...said that she and I are free spirits and that's why nobody loves us.”

“First of all,” Ruth said, holding up one finger as she spoke. “People do love you, Li. I love you, and Nic and mum and dad. Harry seems to love you too, and that Zayn guy, and even Louis. Niall, I would say, really loves you. Nobody loves Darlene because she's a dumb bitch.”

Nicola laughed, covering her mouth quickly as she glanced at Liam nervously, but even he gave a small, yet genuine, smile.

“If you say so,” he said.

“There's nothing wrong with you, bro; free spirit or not.”

“Okay, 'nothing' is stretching it a little,” Liam teased, though he was also somewhat serious.

“Yeah, you're right,” Ruth said, in much the same way. “We still love you though.”

 

Karen, Geoff, Nicola and Ruth didn't want to part with him the next day, and Louis had offered to let them go to Indiana with him, but they all had to get back to work, and, besides, Liam didn't want to force Louis to jump through anymore hoops for him.

“Be safe, do you understand?” Karen asked, cupping Liam's face as if he were a kid being left alone at home for the very first time.

“I will,” Liam promised.

“You call us if you ever need to talk or...or anything else, got it?”

“Yes, mum,” Liam said, and the woman smiled at the title.

“We'll see you soon,” she told him, and then added, “Not soon enough, but soon.”

“Let me know when you lot make it home.”

“We will.”

After exchanging final goodbyes, 'I love yous' and 'take cares,' most of the latter directed at Liam, the dancer headed to his gate.

“Tell Niall we said hi!” Ruth shouted from behind him at the last second. Liam waved her off, but didn't turn around so that she wouldn't see him smiling.

 

Beatrice was waiting at the airport for Liam when he arrived, though Liam barely noticed her because Niall was at her side. Grinning against the strange fluttering in his heart, Liam tightened his hold on his bag and began running in between the mass of people surrounding him to reach Niall, who began running as well when he saw Liam. Once in front of each other, Liam dropped his bag and Niall all but jumped onto Liam, his arms wrapped around the taller man's neck as Liam pulled him as close as he could possibly get, burying his face into the crook of Niall's neck.

“I missed you,” Niall said after a few moments of simply holding onto each other.

“I missed you too,” Liam returned, and he kissed Niall's neck before pulling back a bit and smiling. Niall returned it, but made sure to ask how Liam was feeling. Liam assured him that he was fine.

“Boys, we need to go!” Beatrice called, and so Liam picked up his lone bag that held the very few items he'd left in his own room at the hotel. Niall let go of him, but Liam took his hand with his own free one and they followed Beatrice out.

“I seriously missed you so much,” Niall spoke again once the two were in the backseat of Beatrice's rental car. Liam didn't get a chance to tell Niall that the feeling was mutual because Niall began to kiss him, his fists forming tight balls around Liam's shirt like he would disappear if he didn't keep a firm enough hold.

“I can't imagine that kiss was pleasant for you,” Liam commented once the other had pulled his face back. He was still holding onto Liam's clothes. “I fell asleep on the plane and I'm pretty sure I was snoring.”

“You always snore,” Niall said. “It was a rather nice kiss, if I do say so myself.”

“I guess if you're still wanting to kiss me at all after I vomited all over the place and then pissed myself, you're a hard one to scare away.”

“Damn right I am.”

“You're still up for the dinner date then?”

“Of course.”

Niall's smile was big and bright, and it didn't falter even as he pulled Liam closer and put their foreheads together.

“I lo-...I 'L-word you.'”

“You're the best thing that's ever happened to me,” Liam said, and while normally, he would find that sentence too sappy for his taste, it was nothing but the truth.

***Louis***

“Louis!”

“Yes, Niall?”

“Tell Liam that he's not performing tonight!”

“He can tell me whatever he wants, but I'm still going to do it!” Liam called out, rounding the corner to Louis's dressing room, all set in his first costume.

“You know we will understand completely if you need to sit this one out, Liam?” Louis asked, closing his eyes as his makeup artist powdered his face.

“I know, but I'm fine!”

“He almost died two nights ago!” Niall said.

“I didn't almost die,” Liam argued.

“What did the doctors say?” Louis asked.

“They said I'm good to go. I have a note if you need to see it.”

Louis looked to Niall, shrugging in defeat as Raven began rummaging through her makeup bag.

“Sorry, mate. As much as I would love for Liam to sit back and rest tonight, I think this is a losing battle.”

“It is,” Liam assured the both of them. Niall groaned, throwing his head back dramatically before he turned on his heel and left the room. Liam looked to Louis, grinning from ear to ear, clearly proud of himself. Louis narrowed his eyes, trying not to smile as well.

“You sure you're good, Liam?”

“I promise.”

“I'm holding you to that.”

Liam nodded, leaning against the door frame and crossing his arms as he looked around the room.

“Where's Harry?”

“Getting changed, I think.”

Again, Liam gave a nod and then left without a word. Louis hummed to himself as his face continued to be applied.

“Louis?” the singer heard his name a few minutes later, just as his hair was being styled.

“Hello again, Niall.”

“Hey...um...We have a minor issue.”

“What is it?” Louis asked, more nervous by the fact that Niall was dancing around what he truly wanted to say than he was about his actual words.

“Harry is, uh, a bit sick. He says he's still performing tonight, but I just thought you should know.”

“What's wrong with him?” Louis asked, his heart actually picking up a noticeable amount of speed. He hated when there was something bothering Harry, especially something that he couldn't fix.

“I'm pretty sure he's got a fever, but Zayn is looking for a thermometer, and he's also got this really weird rash. It's on his chest, back, arms and stomach, so he's going to need a while in make-up...”

“A rash?!” Louis asked, pulling away from his Raven. “How high is his fever?”

“We're trying to find out.”

Without another word, Louis exited his dressing room and headed to Harry's. He wasn't even sure that was where he was, but Niall was following and not redirecting him, so he supposed he was going to the right place.

Harry was laying on the couch with Liam, Zayn and a medic by his side and a thermometer in his mouth. Louis pushed his way gently in between Liam and the medic, looking down worriedly at Harry's paler-than-normal face.

“Hey, doll,” Louis said softly, feeling his boyfriend's forehead with the back of his hand. He was hot, though not frighteningly so. Of course, that didn't do much to calm Louis. Harry, on the other hand, looked quite bored and moved his head so that he could effectively glare at Niall, probably for spilling the beans on his current condition.

“What is it?” the singer asked when the thermometer beeped and the medic took it from the dancer's mouth.

“Just over one hundred,” he replied.

“What's wrong, love?” Louis asked, taking a seat by Harry's feet and rubbing his thigh in what he hoped to be a soothing manner.

“I feel fine,” Harry said.

“Does the rash itch?” Louis asked. It was red enough to sure look as if it did, but Harry shook his head.

“It's probably just some weird virus. I'm sorry, Lou. I hope you don't get it.”

“It looks more like an allergic reaction,” the medic, whose name Louis knew was Raymond, spoke. “Have you consumed anything new recently?”

“No.”

“Are you allergic to anything that you may have consumed by mistake then?”

“No. I don't have any allergies.”

“Well, in that case, we should probably get you to a hospital, just to make sure it's nothing serious.”

“No! I'm fine!” Harry said, looking just as panicked as Louis at the mention of a hospital, though probably for different reasons.

“Most likely, you are, but something is going on, and if it isn't an allergic reaction-”

“I started a new medication recently,” Harry interrupted, glancing quickly to Louis.

“That was nearly two weeks ago,” Louis spoke.

“Yeah, but allergic reactions can spring up a couple weeks later still, can't they?”

“It's possible, but not typical,” Raymond said. “If you don't want to go to a hospital, we at least need to get you to an urgent care.”

“It's just the medicine, I know it. It's nothing serious.”

“Are you short of breath?”

“No.”

“I'd like to listen to your chest and lungs,” Raymond told him anyway, pulling out a stethoscope. Louis could tell that Harry held in a sigh, but he let the medic do what he needed to do, and Louis himself sighed in relief when Raymond announced that all was clear.

“Something is wrong, though,” he commented.

“I do still recommend going to a doctor, Harry,” Raymond said. “Allergic reactions can worsen as time goes on. What kind of medicine are you on?”

Harry looked quickly between every person surrounding him and then looked down, ashamed. Louis's heart broke for him but before he could tell him that he had nothing to be embarrassed over, Harry muttered,

“An antidepressant.”

Louis was grateful that no one acted any differently than if Harry had stated that he'd been on an antibiotic-which they shouldn't have anyway-and Raymond nodded, understanding.

“Assuming the usage of your antidepressant is long term, like most are, I suggest ruling out anything but an allergic reaction. You'll need to be switched to something else immediately if that is what this is.”

“I know that's what it is.”

“My bet is on that as well, but since it took so long for symptoms to arise-”

Harry sighed loudly; enough to cut the medic off mid-sentence.

“This was my first day taking them,” he said.

“I thought you'd been on them for around two weeks?”

“That's when I was prescribed them. I just started taking them today.”

Harry looked at Louis, looking guilty as he took in the confused look that the singer knew had to be on his face.

“I've been flushing them. I'm sorry.”

“No, Harry, I've seen you take them,” Louis said.

“I hid them in my cheek and then spit them into the toilet,” Harry admitted, shattering Louis's heart further, for more reasons than one.

“Why?”

“We can talk later, I promise, but for now, can someone please help me cover this rash?”

“You can't go onstage.”

“I have to.”

“Harry, you're sick.”

“No, I'm not.”

“I do suggest resting,” Raymond said.

“I've missed a half of a show already. I'm not missing this one.”

With that, Harry stood, brushing by Louis, who made to grab onto his hand, but the dancer pulled out of his grasp and exited the room. Louis could run after him and he probably should have, but he was suddenly much too exhausted.

“I'll be on my bus,” he said to the room. “Come get me when I'm absolutely needed, please.”

Liam nodded, but no one said a word and Louis walked out, heading to his tour bus. He half hoped he would pass Harry on his way, but a part of him was grateful that he didn't.

 

“Lou?”

Harry spoke gently before rapping softly on the door frame to Louis's tour bus bedroom.

“Hm?” the singer mumbled, rolling from his stomach to his back and focusing on his boyfriend's beautiful, concerned face.

“I'm sorry,” Harry said again.

“It's okay,” Louis yawned, rubbing his forehead. His headache was back and worse, somehow, but that wasn't what was bothering him at the moment.

“It's not,” Harry disagreed, stepping inside the bedroom, but keeping his distance. “You're mad.”

“No, I'm not.”

“Yes, you are! Why won't you ever say that you're angry with me?!”

“Because I'm not.”

“Yes you are!”

“Fine!” Louis exclaimed, sitting up as he threw his hands helplessly into the air. “I'm mad, Harry, but what do you expect?! You lied to me!”

“I know.”

“Damn it! I hate this! I hate being mad at you because I know it's not your fault, but sometimes you drive me fucking crazy, Harry, and I don't know what to do!”

Harry bit down on his lip briefly, but simply nodded, his eyes wide but, so far, dry.

“I know,” he said again.

“I just don't understand why you don't care! Are you even really trying to get better? Do you want to?”

“I don't want to have to get better,” Harry said. “I just want to be normal.”

“I know, baby, but you're not! It's not your fault, but you've got a problem! I know that it's tough, but there is help right in front of you and you push it away! All of it! Do you want it to end like this?! Do you want to die?!”

“I don't want to die.”

“Good! I'm glad to hear it, but you do realize that you could, right? If you don't get better, you could die. You _will_!”

“I know.”

“So what...I don't...Fuck!”

Before he knew it, Louis was crying, and that was when Harry's tears started too.

“I didn't want you to get hurt,” the dancer said.

“Well, it does hurt, Harry! I'm hurt and I'm mad and I'm scared and I'm confused and overwhelmed!”

“You're mad.”

“Yes, I'm mad! We covered that!”

“Do you still love me though?”

Louis jolted back, legitimately shocked by the question, and hurt by it too.

“Are you serious?” he asked. Harry nodded, and it was all Louis could do not to get up and shake him.

“Of course I love you still!” Louis exclaimed, his voice raising in pitch as his tears came down faster. “I can't believe you even had to ask that! Do you honestly think that my love is conditional? That the second I fail to be anything but happy with you that I can just fall out of love? Because I can't, and I wouldn't want to. _Of course I love you, Harry_. Even when I'm furious and wanting to pull my hair out because of you, I love you! What, are you just going to stop loving me the second I say something stupid or fail to live up to your expectations? Because if so, that's not love! If you can just walk away from me the moment we disagree or upset each other even a little, then you never even loved me in the first place and you should just tell me now so-”

It was then that Harry chose to interrupt Louis. He did so as kindly as he could, by leaping onto the bed, cupping Louis's face in his hands and placing a big, wet kiss on his lips, but he'd still interrupted, and Louis wasn't quite sure how he felt about that.

“I was talking,” he said.

“You can continue if you want,” Harry allowed, brushing his thumbs along Louis's cheekbones. “I just wanted to tell you that I _do_ love you and that no, I'm not going to walk away because we sometimes disagree or get angry with each other. That's healthy for a relationship. What isn't healthy is you pretending you aren't mad at me when you are. You can tell me when I've hurt you or made you angry or scared or anything else. Everyone is always so careful to tiptoe around my feelings. They act emotionless to what my illness does to them and that isn't helpful because I already know it hurts me. That isn't enough to make me want to get better because I don't really know anything else. I don't remember life before this thing plagued me, but I remember you before it crept into your life as well. Thank you for telling me that it hurt you-that I hurt you by allowing it to stay. I'm not happy that I did, but now that I know I did, I want to fix it. I want to get better now, Lou; for you.”

“But...you should want to get better for you too,” Louis said after a moment of studying Harry in silence; of taking in his sincere, apologetic, yet eager face. He hiccuped, and Harry kissed him.

“Maybe one day,” he said, “but I love you a lot more than I love me and I'd do anything for you. I can't promise that I'll be able to conquer everything, but I can promise to try, and I will this time.”

Their moment was ruined by Louis's phone buzzing on the nightstand next to them, and the singer sighed upon seeing that it was Beatrice.

“I think we're needed,” he said, and then leaned up to kiss Harry's forehead. “You feel a bit hotter.”

“Just from getting all worked up. Come on, love, let's go.”

“Okay, but one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“I may be mad, but I am still proud of you. I know part of you has been trying all along, and part of you is winning. I want you to know that.”

With the tiniest of smiles, Harry leaned forward to place another short kiss to Louis's lips.

“And I want you to know that I love you,” the dancer said, “and that my love is also unconditional. I still sometimes feel like I don't know a lot about you, but I know you've been hurt a lot more than you ever should have by people who claimed to love you. Now I've hurt you too, but I do love you, and I'm going to do my best to fix what I did. I'm going to work on getting better, and I'm going to love you the whole time I'm doing it.”

“In that case, I wish you loved yourself half as much as you apparently love me,” Louis said.

“That would be kind of awkward,” Harry reasoned. “I wouldn't ever get anything done because I'd never want to take my hands off of myself.”

Louis laughed, wiping his eyes and then rubbing his forehead again.

“Come on, super star,” Harry said, getting to his feet and offering a hand to his boyfriend. “Let's get you some Aspirin and fix that hair. I love you and you're always beautiful, but, seriously, what happened?”

“Shut up,” Louis said, giving a wet laugh. “I ran off halfway through my hairdo to check on your lobster self.”

“Look how invisible the rash is now though!” Harry exclaimed excitedly. “Raven is a true miracle worker.”

“You're my miracle,” Louis replied, and Harry beamed, choosing to not say another word. He might not believe Louis, but he had been serious. Harry survived a terrible car wreck when he was younger and pulled through his injuries to obtain his dream. He beat an awful eating disorder once and was in the process of doing so again. Harry longed to be normal, but what he didn't realize was that all of those things would have depleted a 'normal' person of much of their strength and compassion. Not Harry though. Harry was left stronger, brighter and still whole enough to help put a lonely, miserable over-rated (in Louis's humble opinion) pop star back together without even realizing he was doing it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week's chapter might be late as well due to another holiday weekend. Since I probably won't talk to most of you until then, Happy New Year! I hope 2017 is your greatest year yet! ;)
> 
> Now, this is mild rambling, so feel free to not read if you don't want to. But I just felt the need to say that I'm still aiming for a 50 chapter limit on this. Depending on how much I can squeeze into one chapter, there may be a couple more or less, but right now, that is the plan. Obviously, there is still a bit to cover, so things will start picking up speed again. I've said this before, but thank you to everyone who has stuck it out with me this long and I hope the last few chapters don't disappoint! :)


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get this chapter up before the holidays, but obviously, that didn't happen, so please forgive me for dragging the holidays out just a little more in this chapter ;)

***Harry***

“As I'm sure you know, this is our last session before you head home for the holidays, Harry.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are there any pressing matters you wish to discuss with me before then? The holidays can be difficult for people suffering from any mental illness, but especially eating disorders.”

“No, I actually feel pretty...stable right now, I guess is the right word.”

For the first time in months, Harry wasn't lying.

After Louis had found out that Harry was only pretending to take his anti-depressant, Harry came clean with it all. He told him how he hid his food and how he still had been purging whenever he had the opportunity. Telling him was terrifying. He knew that Louis would be hurt all over again by the revelations and that was never something that Harry enjoyed, but, selfishly, he was more afraid of the fact that Louis would know his secrets. It wouldn't be so easy for him to hide his food in napkins or push it off to the side of his plate to make it appear as if he'd eaten more than he had when Louis would surely be watching for those exact tricks. Purging would be extremely difficult as well. Harry knew there was no possible way that Louis could be by his side every single second of every day, but Louis would look for those signs too. He'd be suspicious if Harry brushed his teeth too much or used mouthwash at seemingly random times. He would do everything in his power to make sure that Harry didn't run off too soon after meal times.

Still, Harry had told him because, also for the first time, he truly wanted to get better. Instead of wishing he could just be normal, Harry had to face the fact that he wasn't, and that he never was going to be. All he could do was work on improving himself and accepting things for how they were. He was tired of making people sad, angry, scared, confused and everything else that he'd made Louis feel all at once that day when things blew up in his face, and he was tired of feeling that way himself. Maybe he couldn't remember ever feeling any other way, but he knew he had to have at one point in time. It wasn't going to be easy, but Harry had to believe that he could feel happiness again; true, permanent happiness besides the fleeting moments he experienced every now and then.

At that point, Louis had brought a retired psychiatrist on the road. The doctor was the same man that Louis had seen a few years back, which helped Harry open up from the beginning. Just like the issue with homosexuality, Harry felt that if Louis had needed medication and someone to talk to, then maybe there wasn't anything so wrong with him either.

Louis's history with the doctor also helped Harry because, while Dr. King kept things professional, his demeanor was relaxed and friendly. Louis had hired him privately, so there were less rules and regulations the man had to follow, and when the first thing Louis did upon his arrival was give him a hug and start joking about the apparent train-wreck of a flight that Dr. King had just experienced, it was easier for Harry to see him as an acquaintance rather than a shrink that judged his every word and action. During their sessions, he was serious and methodical, but he would go out with the group every now and then. While Harry knew he probably had ulterior motives-to observe Harry, Louis, Liam and his couple other 'patients' in a natural setting-it was anything but awkward. If Harry struggled with a particular meal, he wouldn't take out a notepad and write notes. If Liam got a little too drunk, he wouldn't lecture him about his self-destructive behavior. Dr. King had become part of the tour family, and while Harry would still have sessions every now and then with Dr. Parks, who was a great doctor himself and had prescribed Harry a new medication, he found himself improve at a much faster pace than ever over the last few months.

That wasn't to say that it was easy. Harry was still slightly underweight. Allowing him to be aware of his weight had been one of his stipulations on talking to the man and he knew that no one was particularly happy about it, but Harry still needed to have a sense of some control. That control included picking a set weight and not allowing himself to go over it. He hadn't told Louis or the doctor that part of it. They didn't know, to Harry's awareness, that nine-and-a-half stone was the limit he'd set for himself. Ten stone should be the bare minimum of what he should weigh, Harry was told, but nine-and-a-half wasn't too far off and, besides, he wouldn't let himself go much under that mark either.

When Harry reached what was close to going over his self-set limit, it didn't take him long to get back down and, surprisingly, it wasn't hard for him to do either. He didn't need to purge or completely starve himself. He would skip one or both of his recommended snacks for the day, insisting he wasn't hungry, and even though he knew it worried Louis, Dr. King had told him not to try to force Harry to eat or guilt him into it and so he would let it go. Harry would always eat the meal after and that seemed to satisfy him, for the most part.

Harry still had self-esteem issues to work on, he knew. He didn't like what he looked like even at nine-and-a-half stone, and any time he made any kind of mistake, all he wanted to do was feel the hunger pains punish him for it. Sometimes, no one else would even notice the 'mistake,' but it was blown out of proportion in his mind. He guessed the good part of it was that at least he knew it wasn't as big of a deal as he thought it was, which was an odd phenomenon, but Harry had also come to terms with the fact that there was a lot about him which didn't make sense. It didn't mean they weren't real thoughts or feelings, though.

“Just know that, if you need extra help at any point during the holidays, Dr. Parks and myself will both be available for phone sessions,” Dr. King told Harry, who gave a small smile.

“Thank you.”

“If there isn't anything else you'd like to discuss, you are free to go.”

Harry nodded, stood up and adjusted his clothing.

“Have a nice holiday, doctor,” he said.

“Thank you. You as well, Harry.”

The dancer was at the door when Dr. King said,

“Oh, could you send Liam in for me, please?”

Harry assured him that he would and exited the room. He didn't see Liam lingering around, but he spotted Louis in the near distance, preparing for his meet-and-greet, and so Harry approached. Louis's back was turned and he jumped a bit when Harry wrapped his arms around his middle, but he giggled when he realized who it was and leaned his head against Harry's chest as the dancer kissed the side of his neck.

“Sorry,” Harry apologized. “Didn't mean to scare you.”

“I was startled, not scared,” Louis insisted.

“I stand corrected.”

“How was the session?” Louis asked.

“It was good. I'm supposed to send Liam in. Do you know where he is?”

At the perfect moment, Harry heard his friend's booming voice from out onstage, speaking into a microphone.

“One...two…check! One...two...Okay, we're good here. Niall?”

“Check!” Niall replied, presumably into a different microphone. Harry laughed.

“Never mind.”

“Do you want to get him or do you want me to?” Louis asked.

“I'll go. You've got fans to meet soon,” Harry said, and he gave Louis a kiss on the lips before venturing out onstage just as Niall was saying,

“Ladies and gentleman, I introduce to you, the incredible, amazing, beautiful, sexy, scrumptious, brilliant...Liam Payne!”

“Thank you, thank you,” Liam said to Niall and Zayn; the latter seated in the audience, clapping and cat-calling. “For my first act, I will be performing a song by the best singer ever! Erm, well, besides Louis T., of course, but I mean, that should be a given. Anyway, here is 'One Dance' by Drake!”

As Liam began singing, Zayn jumped on the stage and he and Niall began dancing. Smiling, Harry stopped in his tracks and watched them. Dr. King was waiting for Liam, but he was a patient man, and Harry wasn't going to interrupt Liam's harmless fantasy to make him go to therapy. That would make him the worst of friends, surely.

When the trio finished, Harry clapped and hollered, finally stepping out of the shadows. They all smiled at him, Liam laughing into the microphone before putting it down by his side. Walking towards the center of the stage, Harry said,

“I would ask for an encore, but you have a private meeting with a fan, Mr. Payne.”

“Would this fan happened to be named Todd King?” Liam questioned.

“Why yes, it would!” Harry answered, feigning shock at Liam's knowledge. Liam sighed.

“That guy can't get enough of me, I swear.”

“Can't blame the guy,” Niall said, sneaking up behind Liam and squeezing his bum. Liam smiled, then turned around to kiss the other.

“I'll see you soon,” Niall told him, taking Liam's microphone for him.

“Did I tell you lot what Louis's Christmas present to him is?” Harry asked once the three had watched Liam walk backstage, out of sight and earshot.

“No, I don't think so,” Niall said, tilting his head curiously. Harry smiled, just as excited for Liam to know his surprise than Liam would be when he got it.

“He's going to take him to the studio sometime during break and give him a few songs than he can choose from to record and then, if he wants, Louis and his team are going to help him produce an EP.”

Niall and Zayn's mouths both fell open and it took a moment before either spoke. Zayn was the first to recover.

“He's going to die,” he announced.

“I don't know how serious Liam is about singing,” Harry continued. “He's such a great dancer that I don't know if he'd want to actually make and release an EP, but I know he wants to at least record a song, right?”

“Yeah, and, honestly, I think singing is his main passion,” Niall said. “I hope he doesn't die, but he may come close.”

Again, Harry smiled, even more excited. “Good. I thought he would like it. Don't tell him, alright?”

“Of course not,” the two agreed.

 

Harry didn't know what it was about that show, but it felt different than the others, in a good way. He enjoyed every show, even when he felt like he kept messing up and making a fool of himself, but that night, he wasn't even too concerned with himself. He noticed the other dancers' pure joy as they did what they loved to do for the last time before a two week break. He listened to every single note Louis sang and the light way he bantered with the audience in between songs. Finally, he let the screams and cheers of the audience really wash over him. The love they had for Louis was amazing, and Harry was fortunate enough to be dating the guy that belonged in the hearts of so many people. He was lucky enough to be in love with him-and to have Louis be in love with him as well.

For a moment, Harry almost wondered if he'd accidentally taken a double amount of his anti-depressants.

As planned by the entire crew, yet unbeknownst to Louis, the dancers skipped their second 'distraction' routine that was set in place to entertain the audience for a short amount of time while Louis went to change and get another water bottle. Instead, Beatrice brought a microphone out to Harry who, after receiving reassuring smiles from his fellow dancers, walked to the front of the stage. He hadn't even started talking yet, and screams filled the place. Though he waited for it to quiet down, he couldn't wait too long, sure Louis would run back out at the first possible moment to see what the noise was about.

Harry cleared his throat before speaking, knowing his voice would be quivering at least a little. It was terrifying, having hundreds and hundreds of eyes on him. Some people would be recording videos, he knew. Others would be taking pictures. He would forever be in their phones in this tiny costume that didn't cover much, but he could do this.

“Good evening,” he began, and okay, that wasn't _too_ lame. For now, he was okay. He went on, “As most of you probably know, this is our last show before the Winter holidays and, most importantly, Louis's birthday. I'm not going to go off on some big, personal, speech, even though I could, but the dancers as well as myself wanted to honor this guy who made all of our dreams come true in some way. For most of us, this tour has been our first paid gig out of university. So many performers have to struggle for months or years to get a decent job that they're happy in. Many big stars won't even consider hiring dancers with little to no experience, so to be on a world-wide tour with one of the best known singers in the industry is amazing. We like to tease him and say that he only hired rookies because we're cheaper, but that's not true.”

The audience laughed at the joke, and Harry realized he had yet to trip over any words, and so he stood a little straighter, feeling a tad more confident. He knew that Louis had to be done changing or nearly so at that point, but when he glanced offstage, he didn't see him lingering, which was good. If he'd caught a glimpse of his boyfriend, Harry probably would have lost his place. Sometimes Louis made it hard to think clearly, which wasn't a bad thing, but it wouldn't be great in this situation.

“Louis honestly just likes to make others' dreams come true, and he does, every single day. We are so grateful, and I know you all are as well, so on the count of three, Liam is going to lead us in singing 'Happy Birthday,' to my love...my hero. Are you ready?”

The noise that filled the place then actually made Harry jump, and then he laughed.

“Wow. I guess so. I love it! Alright, Liam are you ready?”

“Ready!” Liam said into his own microphone, from a little behind Harry.

“Great! One...two...three!”

Everyone began singing, Harry included, though he lowered his microphone, making sure Liam was the one truly carrying the chorus, and that was when he saw Louis standing just out of sight from the audience, looking at Harry with shock on his face as well as a huge smile. Harry grinned, his mouth stretching far too wide, but he couldn't help it.

As the song drew to a close, Louis came back onstage and the final notes were cut off from the audience's cheers. Holding onto Harry's hips, Louis stood on his tiptoes to kiss him, and then he accepted the plate with a piece of cake that Zayn was offering him.

“Bite?” Louis mouthed to Harry, to where no one else could see. He reassured the dancer with his eyes that it was perfectly okay if he refused, but Harry nodded, allowing Louis to feed the bite to him. Of course, the audience lost it again at that, and Harry smiled and waved to them quickly before handing his microphone to Louis and going back to take his place.

“This is really good,” Louis commented of the cake after he'd taken his own bite. “Thank you, everyone. Although I'm going to have a huge bruise on my knee from falling over trying to quickly get my trousers up and see what in the bloody hell my shy boyfriend was doing speaking to you lot like he'd been doing it for years. Good job, babe! I'm so proud of you.”

Harry smiled, mostly confident that his blush wouldn't be visible under the lights.

“And good job Liam on the best cover of 'Happy Birthday' ever,” Louis said next, and then, “Thank you all again.”

There was a bit of silence from the stage as Louis quickly finished his cake, but his fans didn't seem to mind. They filled the quietness with cheers and more 'happy birthdays.'

“Okay!” Louis said once he had finished. “Shall we continue the show?”

 

“Happy birthday, but this bottle is mine,” Liam announced to Louis backstage, hugging the champagne bottle that he had, indeed, bought for himself, close to his chest as Zayn retrieved the alcohol set aside for everyone.

“I thought you weren't drinking from the bottle anymore?” Zayn asked.

“That's after the New Year,” Liam explained. “No more drinking from the bottle or having more than two drinks a day then, though I'm not planning to drink every day.”

“Ah, I see,” Zayn said, nodding in understanding.

“I'm also giving up smoking,” Liam told them all.

“Fuck, man,” Zayn replied. “I mean, I'm proud of you, but everyone else is going to have to up their alcohol intake to deal with your moody ass.”

Liam stuck out his tongue, but Niall laughed, kissing Liam on the cheek.

“You can do it,” he assured the dancer.

“I'm not saying he can't do it,” Zayn said. “All I'm saying is that we might not survive.”

Louis popped the top off the bottle of champagne, distracting from the conversation with a yelp as the alcohol fizzed over onto his hand. The crew members cheered, all simultaneously gathering around to be poured a glass and given a piece of cake. Louis made himself in charge of drinks while Harry passed out the food. Once everyone was settled, Louis and Harry got their own plates and drinks and went to sit on the floor in a nearby corner.

“Cheers,” Louis said, raising his glass. Harry clinked his own against it and they both took a drink.

“I really am so proud of you, Harry,” Louis said after he'd taken a couple bites of his second slice of cake for the night and washed it down with champagne. “It takes a lot of guts to sing to an audience, but it takes even more to speak to them like you did.”

“It was for you,” Harry said with a smile and a shrug. “Don't expect another present because that's all you're getting.”

“I'm not,” Louis told him, genuinely, and Harry rolled his eyes.

“I was kidding. Of course I got you a present, you doof.”

Harry tapped his foot against Louis's, and the singer smiled.

“I figured,” he said. “But I hope you know I don't expect anything from you. Well, anything except for you to listen to me when I ramble and sometimes give me extra cuddles when I'm needy.”

“You're so hard to please,” Harry sighed teasingly. “I'm going to start calling you super diva instead of super star.”

“I think I'm going to buy a sparkly microphone for the next leg of tour,” Louis said.

“That's hot. You know what would be even hotter?”

“What?”

“If you got some sparkly elevator shoes to go with them. Like, silver sparkly elevator shoes.”

“That would be hot. I may end up breaking my neck though.”

“It would be worth it.”

“You know what? You're right. Should I get a sparkly dress as well?”

“Is that even a serious question? Of course you should. A red one.”

“We have a lot of shopping to do over break.”

“Beauty takes time, super diva.”

“Not yours,” Louis said. Apparently they were being serious then. “On another note, I can't wait to spend this Christmas with you.”

“You know what will be even better?”

“Um...our first New Year's kiss?”

“Well...yes, but I was thinking next Christmas. And then our second New Year's kiss.”

“Our third might be even better though.”

“How about our fourth?”

“Our fifth.”

“Our fiftieth.”

“Harry...by then I'll be on my way to eighty.”

“What's your point?”

Louis paused, thinking, and then he smiled.

“That our fifty-first will be best.”

“Nah. I think our fifty-second.”

“And then I'll be dead.”

“Oh my god!” Harry shrieked, laughing, but mortified all the same. “We didn't have to go there.”

“Sorry,” Louis said, smiling sheepishly before leaning over and kissing Harry.

“You had a bit of icing on your lip,” he explained.

“Hm...Where else would you kiss icing from?”

Louis's mouth dropped open, but he recovered quickly and rose to his feet.

“Finish your cake, Harry,” he said. “I'm going to politely mingle and then I'll meet you on the tour bus with the leftover dessert, got it?”

***Liam***

Liam savored the drunk feeling, knowing that soon, he would never feel it like this again. He was ready-he was-but that wasn't to say that he wouldn't miss it. Dr. King had helped him to realize that, while he wasn't an alcoholic, at least not yet, he still didn't have a good relationship with the substance. There was nothing wrong with using it for recreation, which Liam sometimes did, but, usually, he used it as a crutch. For a long time, alcohol had been the only thing he could rely on to make himself feel better. Even sex didn't always help the way that booze did. Now, Liam's life had changed. He was no longer a scared teenager, trying to adjust to life without his parents because they'd kicked him out of their life due to the mere fact that he was attracted to men and not women. That would always hurt, Dr. King had explained, because traumatic experiences went much like the death of a loved one. There was a grieving process that always had to end in acceptance in order for the person to heal, and Liam had been stuck in both the anger and the depression stage for far too long.

Still, even though he had been talking to the psychiatrist for over two months, Liam wasn't completely to the 'acceptance' stage yet. Moreover, he was starting to accept the fact that he hadn't ever come to terms with the past, which, according to Dr. King, opened the door for him to be able to eventually move on.

Liam also had to get over everything that had happened before he was kicked out of his home; the abuse he'd faced for not being what his parents, especially his father, had wanted. He was grieving there as well, the professional had told him. Though Liam had thought it was dramatic at first, Dr. King had told him that he really was mourning something; the child that had, at one time, felt love and trust and safety. Liam had laughed at the suggestion at first because he couldn't mourn _himself._ That was silly. When he thought about it more, though, he knew that the older man had a point. Liam felt that the adult he'd become wasn't anything like the child he once was, and that was hard for him to face at first. He'd become angry and bitter, longing for who he could have been, but then he was told that, even if his inner child would never feel the things he lost, adult Liam still could, and so the grieving process had begun there as well.

Pride was one thing that Liam hadn't been able to feel since he was a small kid, but he finally received a chance to feel proud of himself again when, a whole month after the seizure incident, Liam's biological mother sent him a Facebook message apologizing for running off on him, but claiming that she had to get back to his father because 'Liam knew how he was.' She told him that she'd been keeping up with him on his page and she was so happy that he was okay.

Liam didn't reply. Instead, he deleted and blocked her, which was a lot more freeing than he ever imagined it would be. Maybe she had chosen to abandon him again when he needed her, but he'd refused to let her back so, really, the final say was still his.

A week after Liam had been hospitalized, he took Niall on a date. Liam expected it to be awkward or frightening, but it wasn't because it wasn't actually their first date. No matter what they had been calling it-or not calling it-Liam and Niall had been dating for quite a while. They still hadn't used the term 'boyfriend,' and the dancer still couldn't say the L-word, but he hoped that Niall knew he loved him and that, for all intents and purposes, he thought of him as his.

“Liam, fuck, babe, are you okay?” Niall asked with his own tipsy giggle as Liam attempted to get up the first step to the tour bus and then slipped right off as if there had been a sheet of ice over it.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Liam said, laughing as well.

“Oh, shit, no, babe. You're bleeding,” the smaller man commented.

“Am I?” Liam asked because, honestly, he couldn't feel a thing.

“Yeah. Come here.”

Niall held onto Liam's arm as he successfully climbed onto the tour bus and then he led him to the couch. He rummaged around in the bathroom, dropping quite a few things, by the sounds of it, and then he came back out with some gauze, antibacterial ointment and a band-aid.

“You're my hero,” Liam sighed, ruffling Niall's hair.

“Better than Batman?” Niall asked.

“Yes, but don't tell him I said that.”

“Okay, I won't.”

“He might not let me be his sidekick if he knows you're my favorite now.”

“I won't tell on you, but you deserve more than 'sidekick' status, just so you know.”

“Aww,” Liam said, clutching his chest and then kissing Niall, who grinned as he finished patching up Liam's knee.

“I'm usually a lot more graceful than that, even drunk,” Liam commented, looking at his bandage forlornly.

“You were just taken aback walking behind me, staring at my butt, I know it,” the other said.

“Caught me,” Liam admitted. Niall sat forwards on Liam's lap, kissing his lips.

“I'm going to miss you during the holidays,” he said, and Liam frowned for only an instant. Niall was going back to Ireland to be with his family during the break, naturally, and Liam would be in England with his. The two had already made a pact to Face Time every day, but it wouldn't be the same.

“I'll miss you too,” Liam told him.

“Remind me to give you your gift before we leave for the airport tomorrow,” Niall said.

“Aw, you got me a gift?” Liam teased, although he was a little surprised.

“I did. Not much, but I hope you like it.”

“I will,” Liam assured him. “I got you something too.”

“You're so sweet.”

“Like a cupcake.”

“Exactly.”

“Or like the cheesecake we had in New York!”

Niall moaned, throwing his head back rather seductively at the memory.

“Fuck yes, that cheesecake! At some point, we have to get our asses back to New York.”

“Like, if we ever get married, we should have that cheesecake instead of a regular wedding cake.”

The words that came out of Liam's mouth shocked him just as much as they appeared to shock Niall, but then the smaller dancer smiled.

“Yes,” he agreed casually. “It's a plan.”

Liam almost asked Niall if it was weird that he'd said that, but Niall wasn't acting as if he felt awkward or anything, and Liam felt like the question in itself would make things uncomfortable, so he kept his mouth shut and pushed all wedding thoughts away. How was he going to get married to this guy if he'd yet to be able to call him his boyfriend?

 

The pair ended up exchanging presents when they got to the hotel, still intoxicated. Niall's gift to Liam was a pair of wireless earphones that Liam kept saying he needed to buy, as he tended to rip his own from his ears as he was working out, but that he never got around to doing. Liam felt bad because that was actually an amazing present and his gift to Niall had merely been a Build-a-Bear teddy that would play a recording of Liam's snores when squeezed in its middle. Niall had laughed and laughed, but told Liam that he loved it, and Liam believed him, telling him he better love it because the person at Build-a-Bear had clearly thought he was crazy. Niall had kissed him then and muttered something about not giving in to societal norms. Liam wasn't sure what he meant in the current instance, but he had liked the words regardless and he kissed Niall once more, thinking that if the man ever chose to tell him he loved him again, then he just may be able to say it back.

***Louis***

“Wait, babe, who is picking us up at the airport?” Louis asked Harry for the second time as their plane prepared to land at their final stop.

“My parents are picking us up and taking us to your place.”

“Yes, yes, okay. I remember that now. And then...what's happening tomorrow?”

“Well, tomorrow is your birthday.”

“Oh, yes, you are correct.”

Harry laughed and continued, “So the plan was to go to lunch with both of our parents and then, later, your mum is going to be at my mum's flat helping her bake and cook for Christmas while some of your friends go to her place for a little party.”

“If Dean ever fails me, I'm going to hire you as my manager,” Louis said, leaning his tired head against Harry's shoulder.

“Don't fall asleep now,” the dancer said. “We're landing in about two minutes.”

“Not falling asleep,” Louis said, though that was precisely what he did for four whole minutes before Harry woke him with a kiss on the head.

“Sorry, love, but we may want to get ready to get off the plane now.”

“I wasn't asleep,” Louis claimed, hopping up and opening the overhead compartment, struggling in the attempt to get his and Harry's luggage down, but Harry didn't hurt his ego by trying to help.

It was only Anne and Gemma there to pick up Harry and Louis, and both women smiled widely when they saw the men approaching. They hugged Harry first and then Louis, shooting off questions of how their flight was, if they were excited for break and did they think they wanted to get anything to eat on the way home.

“Whoa, slow down,” Harry said with a laugh. “The flight was fine, we are eager for the break, and yes, food sounds good.”

Anne and Gemma tried to fight their smiles, but failed, and Louis couldn't even contain his all of the way. Harry either didn't notice or pretended not to and led the way to get the rest of their bags.

The couple was much too tired and grungy to want to go eat anywhere, so Anne took them to a fast food place and allowed them to eat at Louis's house while she and Gemma carried in their bags. Louis felt bad and kept standing to help, but the mother would order that he sit right back down and finish his meal and there was really no sense in arguing with mothers-they always won in the end-and so Louis listened.

After Louis and Harry had finished eating, Louis offered a tour of the house, telling the ladies that it was nothing spectacular, but that this was likely the only time for the next two weeks in which it would be clean. Harry followed even though he'd already seen the house and every time Louis got a glimpse of him, he was smiling, and the singer's heart warmed.

Before Anne and Gemma left, Louis and Harry were sure to thank them for picking them up and to give the both of them hugs. The ladies made sure twice that neither of them needed anything and then they went on their way.

“They're so nice,” Louis said.

“Usually,” Harry teased, pulling Louis closer by the waist and then kissing him. Louis's smile was broken by a yawn.

“Bed time?” Harry asked.

“Bed time,” Louis agreed.

 

Lunch the next day went better than Louis could have ever imagined. He hadn't expected it to go badly, of course, but it was the first time that his mother was meeting Harry's family and even though he thought they would get along, it had been awkward when Jay had met his first serious boyfriend's family. With Harry's family, it was completely natural, like the sides had known each other for a long time. She'd arrived at the restaurant last, apologized for being late (her heel broke on her way out the door and so she had to change her entire outfit because no other shoes matched what she had been wearing) and introduced herself to Anne, Des and Gemma without any prodding from her son. Though Harry and Louis were the center of attention from all of them, their families still chatted amongst themselves quite a bit too, and by the end, when they parted, Anne and Jay were hugging and saying that they would see the other that night.

“My mum thinks your family is lovely,” Louis told Harry after Jay had text him saying exactly that once the pair was home and lounging on the couch. Harry laughed.

“My mum literally sent me a text less than two minutes ago saying how wonderful your mum is. She's super excited for their bake fest tonight.”

“Old people are so precious,” Louis commented, even though neither of them were actually old by any means. Harry laughed again anyway, then curled into Louis's side and dozed off. Louis soon joined him.

 

Louis had a better turn out for his party than he thought he would, given that he hadn't even known he was going to have a party before a few nights ago. Jay had taken it upon herself to get in touch with his local friends and invite them over. She had stocked the house with plenty of food and alcohol (though warned against drinking enough to get a hangover for Christmas), set up the new sound system she had bought herself, and hanged embarrassing, child-like streamers because she was a little punk. (Louis would never tell her, but he kept the streamers up anyway.)

Harry seemed more relaxed at this party than any of the others he and Louis had attended. Of course, it probably helped that Liam and Zayn were there, keeping him company when Louis was distracted by someone else. Niall was there as well, via Skype, taking shots with Liam from a whole other country and blowing kisses to the laptop when Liam would giggle at something he said. Louis claimed to be disgusted while being anything but. The other two didn't care either way.

Throughout the night, Louis's mom sent him pictures of the various cookies and other treats that she and Anne made. She would apologize afterward, saying that she knew he was with friends but she just thought their creations were 'so adorable.' Louis pretended to be annoyed, but he knew that the woman was aware he was only teasing. In reality, he couldn't be happier. He was home with his family, his boyfriend and most of his closest friends. Life was really just amazing, and that wasn't only the wine talking.

 

Not many people listened to Jay about limiting the alcohol and the woman came home that night to find several drunk twenty-somethings passed out on her couch or floor. Louis had woken when he heard her enter, and she laughed lightly when she saw the scene in front of her. She then spent the next few minutes covering the unconscious party-goers with blankets. When she got to Louis and saw that his eyes were open, she startled, but then smiled.

“Did you have fun?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Louis said. “Sorry about all the people passed out on your floor.”

“It's alright. I'd rather them pass out here than while they're driving, or in a cab back to their places.”

“I figured you would, and don't worry. I won't be too miserable for Christmas.”

“Good,” she said, smiling. “Happy birthday, baby.”

“Love you, mum.”

“I know you're twenty-four now, but you come get me if you or any of your friends need anything, okay?”

“I will.”

“Good. I love you. Get some sleep because you bet I'm still waking you up bright and early to get ready to go to Anne's.”

 

As promised, Louis only had a slight headache the next day, and that was cured as he started in on the Christmas wine when they got to Anne's place. It was amazing, Louis thought, that the families were willing to spend the holidays together already when their sons had only been dating a few months. Louis hoped it would be that way for their second Christmas and their fifty-second.

“Oh, god. It's starting. I apologize, everyone. My mum's a wine-o,” Louis commented after Jay started in on her third glass of wine and hiccuped. No one was completely sober at that point, though, so they all simply laughed.

“Don't worry, dad starts singing when he drinks enough, and he can't sing,” Gemma said.

“He might sound alright when we're all drunk,” Jay rationalized.

“Trust me, he won't,” the younger woman told her, and Jay giggled.

 

After lunch, dessert, and third glasses of wine or eggnog were finished, the families went to the living room for presents. Louis and Harry had gotten their respective families gifts and then something from the both of them, and Louis honestly hadn't expected Harry's parents and sister to get him anything, but they did. They'd gotten the pair of them a 'couple' present as well; a 'first Christmas together' ornament with the year.

“I know that may be jumping the gun,” Anne said, “but on the hope that it isn't, I thought it would be nice to have it for a tree next year, if you two are home and able to put one up.”

“I love it. Thank you,” Louis assured her, and Harry said the same. As Gemma dove under the tree for the next present, Louis turned to Harry to ask him silently if he was okay. Harry, thankfully, was great at reading lips and nodded, pulling Louis close to his side and kissing his cheek. Gemma and Jay both took sips of their fourth drinks, and then Jay hiccuped again.

“Jeez, mother,” Louis said, and she giggled.

“I'm sorry! You all are never going to want to do Christmas with me again!”

“That's silly,” Anne said, waving her hand. “Today has been so much fun! I hope we get to do it again next year!”

“I feel the same way,” Jay said.

“Jay, this may be forward and I'm sorry if so, but are you single?” Anne asked.

“I didn't know you went that way, mum,” Gemma said and Anne laughed loudly.

“No, no! Not for me. We have a family friend, Gabe, and I think they would hit it off well.”

“Oh, yeah, I can see her with Gabe, actually,” Gemma said.

“I'm technically single,” Jay said, smiling as she moved her hair away from her eyes, “though there is a man I'm interested in.”

“What?” Louis asked, sitting up straighter.

“Oh, oops,” Jay giggled. “Don't worry about it, sweetie. We haven't even been on a date or anything. I mean, friends can go to the cinema together and do all their Christmas shopping together and have dinner together during the weekends and lunch together every Wednesday.”

“How long has this been going on?!”

“It started just before Halloween, dear, so not too long.”

“You've been seeing this bloke for almost two months and you're just now telling me?!”

“It never came up. You don't ask about my love life.”

“Yeah, because you're just supposed to tell me!”

Again, the woman giggled.

“It's nothing to worry about, dear.”

“I have to meet this bloke before this continues.”

From beside him, Louis heard Harry try not to laugh, but he didn't care if he seemed ridiculous at the moment. This was serious.

“You already know him, Louis. He's a good guy.”

“I already know him?! Who is it?!”

Jay shifted, smiling nervously before replying.

“Dean.”

“Dean?! My manager Dean?!”

“Yes.”

“That is disturbing.”

“How so?!”

“He's like my father!”

“And I'm your mother.”

“Mothers and fathers usually date, love,” Harry commented.

“Hush, dimples. I don't need your logic.”

Harry laughed while Jay rolled her eyes.

“You're being dramatic, Lou. We will talk later. Now, who is the next present for?”

“Wait, are you planning on running off today to spend time with him?” Louis asked.

“Of course not,” Jay said. “It's Christmas. It's our time. He and I have New Year's Eve.”

“Oh, so what are Harry and I supposed to do on New Year's Eve?”

“Well, you usually go party…,” Jay pointed out, the corners of her mouth twitching up.

“I didn't want to this year.”

“Then I will tell Dean and I know he will be perfectly fine with you and Harry coming to his place as well.”

“Good.”

Realizing that he should probably have his boyfriend's input, Louis belatedly looked to him.

“Hold on, what do you want to do for New Year's Eve?”

“We can go to Dean's place with your mum,” Harry assured Louis, grinning. “It doesn't matter to me.”

“Wonderful.”

Louis kissed Harry, then looked back to his mother as he patted his boyfriend's thigh.

“I wish I could make an older, straight version of Harry for you,” he commented. “That's who you actually deserve.”

“If only I were so lucky,” Jay said with a wink.

“Yeah,” Louis said, suddenly exhausted from the alcohol as well as the emotional distress he'd just been placed under. “I'm pretty lucky.”

Harry let out a small laugh, drawing circles in Louis's knee with his finger, and then the silence was broken by a sniffle as Anne excused herself and hurried away.

“She's a drunk crier,” Gemma explained.

“What did I do?” Louis asked with a frown. _Great_. Things had been going so well and then Louis's big mouth had to go and make Harry's mother cry on Christmas.

“Nothing bad,” Gemma assured him. “You made her happy because you make Harry happy.”

That stunned Louis into silence, and as a smile began to spread across his face, the quiet was broken by yet another sniffle.

“Oh, Jesus, mother!” Louis said as Jay excused herself next. Des, Gemma and Harry all laughed and then Gemma shouted a warning that they had three minutes to compose themselves before they returned to the presents without them.

***Niall***

“Alright, I have to go,” Liam sighed as his cousin-or his sister, as he'd been referring to her as-knocked on his door and yelled at him for the second time to hurry up. “Roo and Nicola want to go pre-party before the real party tonight.”

“Okay,” Niall sighed, understanding completely but still not happy that his Face Time session with Liam was about to end and he likely wouldn't get to see him until the next day. He was going out to party that night, Niall knew, and he expected him to be getting trashed since the next day marked the first day of the New Year and Liam's new almost-sober lifestyle. “If I don't talk to you anymore today, have fun, be safe and all that.”

“I will. You too.”

“I'm just hanging with my family. Not much I can get into here,” Niall said, and he wasn't bitter about it because he always spent New Year's Eve with them and it was honestly always a good time, but he was bitter that Liam wouldn't be there with him. He'd almost been tempted to ask Liam if they could Face Time later and do the midnight countdown together, but that was too cheesy and Liam would be far too drunk at that point even if he wanted to.

“Well, have fun though.”

“I will,” Niall assured him with a smile. “Talk to you tomorrow, at least?”

“Promise. Bye!”

“Bye, Li.”

Niall waited for Liam to disconnect the call and then he locked his phone, sighing as he laid down and picked up the bear that Liam had given him for Christmas. He squeezed the middle and laughed at the sound of Liam's snores, and then he set the bear back on his bed and went downstairs to see if his mom needed help with anything.

 

By ten o' clock, Niall was almost tipsy enough to not care that Liam wasn't there and to pretend he wasn't worried about how intoxicated his love had to be at that point. Still, he wasn't drunk by any means and so he couldn't find it in himself to let go of the sadness or anxiety completely. He wasn't pathetic, though, and he was still having fun. He and the other guests, including his brother and his wife and son, who was asleep upstairs, some of his mom and step dads' friends and even a couple of Niall's own friends, were playing a riveting game of Cards Against Humanity, which Niall realized should be awkward with his parents, but it had been his mom's idea to play and so maybe Niall should actually be worried about her.

Halfway through their game, as Denise, his sister-in-law, stood up to get herself another beer, the doorbell rang and everyone paused, looking at each other like they would have the answer of who their new guest could be.

“Were you expecting anyone else, darling?” Maura asked Niall, who shook his head.

“No,” he replied. _Thanks for reminding me._

“It could be some drunk kids playing ding-dong-ditch or something,” Denise said. “I'll go see.”

“I'm coming with you,” Greg said, rising to his feet. He and Denise made their way out front and though everyone strained their ears, trying to hear what was going on, all Niall heard was the woman say hello questioningly before Greg walked back into the kitchen only seconds later.

“It was someone for Niall,” the older brother explained. “Said something about wanting a New Year's kiss from him. I don't know. He said his name was Liam, but don't worry, bro, I sent him on his way.”

“What?!” Niall asked, getting to his feet and preparing to run down the street in just his socks if it turned out that Greg wasn't lying.

“Just kidding,” the man said, surely enough. Niall sighed, plopping himself back down into his chair.

“That was cruel,” he muttered.

“Niall...”

“What?”

“I was kidding about sending him on his way. He's still out there.”

“What?!”

Greg laughed as Niall rose to his feet again.

“Are you messing with me?”

“No!” the man said, holding up his hands defensively, but laughing again. “I'm serious. Now go on before he thinks you don't want to see him and leaves.”

Niall ran, nearly colliding with the side of the table, but avoiding it at the last second. He still half expected this to be a sick joke and that when he returned, alone, to the kitchen, everyone would be laughing at his excitement and then his embarrassment, but when he rounded the corner to the front entryway, there stood Liam with Denise and a bag by his side, his coat draped over the luggage.

“Oh my god!” Niall exclaimed, running even faster and launching himself at Liam who, luckily, caught him.

“Hi,” Liam greeted, smiling at the other man before placing him back down on his feet.

“How are you here?!” Niall asked, his heart going at what was probably a dangerous rate. “Don't get me wrong, I'm so happy that you are, but you were in London and...How did you know my mum's address?”

“I planned this whole thing with them a couple of weeks ago,” Liam explained. “You should know by now that I'm a professional phone hacker, so I got into your mobile and called to see if they would care if I dropped by for a bit on New Year's Eve.”

“And you didn't tell me?!”

“I thought it would be more romantic to surprise you.”

“It's very romantic,” Niall assured the other, wrapping his arms around the taller man's neck and pressing a hard kiss to his lips. “I'm so happy to see you.”

Liam smiled.

“So you want me to stay?” he asked.

“No, not really,” Niall teased, but in the same breath, “Of course I do!”

Taking Liam's hand, Niall led him to the kitchen, where everyone was waiting with huge grins on their faces. Niall may have temporarily hated them all if he hadn't been so happy.

“I can't believe you lot,” he scolded, and Maura gave a small laugh, getting to her feet as she came around the table to pat Liam's arm and ask if he wanted anything to eat or drink. While she took him to the food table, Niall found another chair and moved his mother's so that Liam would be sitting beside him. When the other dancer returned with his plate, Niall introduced him to his friends (they knew who he was, but Liam didn't necessarily need to know that), and he felt smug over the way the ladies were desperately trying not to swoon. Niall couldn't blame them, of course.

“We're playing Cards Against Humanity if you'd like to join us, Liam,” Maura said as she reclaimed her seat, which was now next to Niall's newest guest. “We can start over.”

“I'll observe this time and jump in if you play a second time,” Liam decided. Niall had missed his voice so much and he sighed, content, as he moved his knee just slightly so that it was touching Liam's underneath the table. Liam didn't move away.

Though Liam was offered all of the alcohol he wanted, he stopped after two drinks. He never once stepped outside to smoke either, and Niall hoped that meant that his New Year's Resolutions would be easy for him to keep.

As it neared midnight, everyone gathered in the living room. Niall's step dad flipped through the television, trying to find something to watch in order to entertain them for the last few minutes of the year. Finally, he settled on a Christmas movie, and they were all so invested in it that they didn't even realize when it was turning twelve until the old grandfather clock struck. Niall hadn't really been paying much attention to the movie, but was instead simply embracing the warmth of being tucked into Liam's side, his love holding him close with his arm around his shoulder.

When the clock began chiming, Niall jumped. Greg and his step father cursed, rushing to pull their wives in their arms, and Liam looked down to Niall, smiling as his eyes scanned his face before he leaned down and placed a soft, yet intimate kiss to his lips.

“Happy New Year, Ni,” he said when he pulled his face away, his arm still making sure Niall was close.

“Happy New Year, Li,” Niall replied, giving in to his optimistic side again to think that, possibly, that would be the best year of his life and, he hoped, for Liam too.

 


	42. Chapter 42

***Liam***

Liam was about to crawl out of his skin. Whose bright idea was it for him to give up smoking in the first place?

Oh yeah; his.

Liam didn't know what to do with himself when he woke up and couldn't immediately go to a cigarette or bottle to help him emotionally prepare for the day ahead. He was still tired, so he tried to fall back to sleep, but he couldn't stop tossing and turning and he knew he would soon wake Niall up if he continued. He was surprised he hadn't already in the small bed they were in, so Liam got to his feet and tiptoed to his luggage. He thought he had gum somewhere in there, though it appeared to be hiding because why would anything be easy? Fuck this year already, Liam thought.

“You leaving?”

Niall's groggy voice made Liam jump and he spun around, facing the man who was rubbing his eyes in an attempt to fully wake up.

“I'm not leaving,” Liam said. “Just looking for gum.”

“I think I have some on my dresser,” Niall said, pointing lazily. “Are you not feeling well?”

“I feel fine,” Liam assured him, singing hallelujah in his head when he found a pack of gum exactly where Niall said it would be. “I just really want a cigarette.”

“Oh yeah!” Niall said, his eyes widening as he sat up and hugged his knees. “I'm sorry, baby.”

“Not your fault,” Liam said, popping a piece of gum in his mouth and chewing on it like a cow. It didn't make him feel much better physically, but his mind calmed down a little as he savored the minty juice.

“Did you buy any nicotine patches?” Niall asked. Liam shook head. Niall said, “They might help. We can go to the store later if you want, depending on when your flight is.”

“My flight isn't until tomorrow,” Liam said, “but I don't want to use the patch. I want to do this by myself. I'm tired of needing a crutch.”

“I'm proud of you, Li, but you know no one will think any less of you if you use assistance?”

“I know, but I can do this.”

“I know you can.”

Niall motioned for Liam to come closer and so he did, sitting on the bed and smiling as Niall laid back down, his head in Liam's lap.

“Can't believe I get all day with you today,” the smaller dancer said. “I didn't think I was going to get to see you until tour started again.”

“That was too long for me to fathom.”

“Way too long,” Niall agreed.

A knock on the door caused Liam to jump.

“Boys?” Maura called softly. “I heard your voices so I'm assuming you're awake. Breakfast is nearly ready whenever you want to come down.”

“Thanks, mum. We'll be down in a second,” Niall called. He waited a moment, and when there was no further comment from his mother, he smiled up at Liam.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Starving,” Liam said.

It was weird to Liam how normal being with Niall's family felt. He'd never even felt this comfortable with his own family; adoptive or otherwise. He was a little nervous, of course. If he'd been Niall's mother, he wouldn't want Niall with anyone like him-not yet-and so Liam did his best to be the version of himself he was still working towards. Maura was nice though, as well as her husband, and Liam knew they were doing all they could to make him feel welcome, which he did.

Once breakfast was finished and Liam had helped clean up (which he was told he didn't have to do but he did anyway), the dancers showered and then Niall drove Liam around town, showing him his favorite places to go when he was home. It was clear how much Niall loved where he was from, and it made Liam happy to see the gleeful glint in his eyes, but it made him a bit sad and scared as well because he worried that he would never make Niall feel as content as this place did.

 

“Do you really have to leave tomorrow?” Niall whispered that night. The two were snuggled in Niall's small bed again and even though Liam knew he would be sore in the morning from two nights of this, he thought it was well worth it.

“Sadly,” Liam said. “I told Roo I have to meet this guy she's been seeing before I go back on tour, and Louis is weirdly insisting that we bond before we go back on the road as well. Do you think he's going to sack me?”

“He's not going to sack you,” Niall laughed, as if that were a ridiculous thought. “I guess I'll just have to snuggle Li Bear for the next couple of nights.”

“Li Bear?” Liam asked.

“The bear you got me for Christmas,” Niall explained. “Don't get me wrong, I love him, but nothing can compare to you, of course.”

“I don't expect you to actually sleep with that,” Liam said, blushing at the thought.

“I already do,” Niall said. “I only moved him with you here because this bed is much too small for three of us.”

“I can sleep on the couch if you're uncomfortable,” Liam offered.

“No, no,” Niall said quickly. “Two fit just fine.”

That was a bit of a lie, but if Niall didn't mind, then Liam didn't either.

“I'm sorry if I kick you during the night,” Liam apologized in advance. “I feel like I'm withdrawing from crack or something.”

“Can I help?” Niall asked, kissing Liam's arm.

“I'm okay,” Liam assured him, finding Niall's mouth in the dark and locking their lips. That would busy and distract him for a while, at least.

 

“How did it go? Was Niall surprised?” Louis asked Liam as soon as the dancer climbed into his car a couple of days later for their 'bonding' time.

“He was, and it went really well,” Liam said. “We had fun.”

“Good.”

“Where's Harry?” Liam questioned.

“Spending time with his family,” Louis explained. “It's just you and me today.”

“That's kind of scary.”

Louis laughed.

“We'll have fun. I promise.”

Liam had no idea what Louis could have planned for them, but given all the time in the world, he would have never guessed it. He was confused when they pulled up to the recording studio, but quickly concluded that Liam would be watching Louis record; potentially giving his opinion on a new song for Harry or something.

When he found out that he would be the one recording, Liam nearly cried.

“You okay, mate?” Louis asked, smiling, but not in a mocking way.

“I'm having nicotine withdrawals!” Liam cried, shaking his hands as if to dry them, and Louis laughed, though not unsympathetically. He clapped Liam on the shoulder.

“Let's sing it out, yeah? I wrote you some songs to choose from, so hopefully you at least like a couple of them.”

Liam remained a bit emotional throughout the day, somewhat from not having had a cigarette or alcohol in threedays, but mostly because he was starting to feel lucky. He'd recently had the best New Year's Eve ever, and it hadn't been in a club, where he got drunk and high and had sex with a couple of people in the bathroom or the back of a car and then woke up somewhere he didn't remember arriving at. He'd spent it with someone who he loved and who loved him, and he'd kissed him when the clock struck midnight, hoping that he was the only person he would be kissing that year. Then he'd come home to the best late Christmas surprise ever; recording in a studio with a universally appreciated singer. For the first time, Liam had people who knew of his true dreams and cared about them; encouraged them, even. It was all almost too much, but he somehow managed to keep a hold of himself.

Niall listened to him ramble for several minutes that night as Liam relived almost every single minute of the day, and he smiled the whole time. He told Liam that he was happy for him and that he hoped he could go with him and hear him record sometime too.

“I know I just got home yesterday, but I miss you,” Liam said before the two disconnected their call.

“I've missed you since you boarded the plane,” Niall said with a wink. “I'll see you in two days.”

“Tell Li Bear I said hi.”

“I will do that.”

“Niall, I...”

Liam trailed off, trying and failing to get the courage to say what he really wanted to say.

“I really appreciate you,” he said instead, and even though he nearly cringed at how lame he thought that was, Niall blessed Liam with one of his sunshine-y beams.

“Sleep well, Li. I'll be counting down the hours.”

 

***Harry***

That Christmas was the first time since he was a small child that Harry felt optimistic about his future. It was the first time he could really even see himself in the future. Not that Harry was planning on dying young or anything-though he knew it was possible if his disorder ever worsened-but Harry was told in therapy to take things day by day. Planning for the future was something normal people did, not sick people. Harry always thought that no matter how long he lived, that his future would be like his present. He would spend every day fighting off the disorder or giving into it, depending on where he was mentally. He would always feel more or less alone, as those he loved, he also tended to scare away.

Maybe it was just the holiday that made him feel differently. He knew he was still struggling. Fortunately, everyone had been too intoxicated to realize that Harry had thrown away all but three bites of his lunch. Still, while part of Harry was silently berating himself for putting so much on his plate in the first place, as he definitely didn't need lunch at all when he'd consumed so much alcohol during the past couple of days, as well as a slice of pizza and a couple crisps at Louis's party, and even a few bites of leftover cake for breakfast, Harry was still having a great time. He was happy to be with his family as well as Louis and Jay.

When his parents had given him and Louis their couple ornament, Harry could visualize putting it on their tree next year. Though nothing had been planned, Harry could picture himself at Louis's house-maybe living there-and decorating their Christmas tree together. He imagined curling up by the fire and watching holiday movies together, and trying to find places to hide each other's presents, even if they were wrapped.

It wasn't only the holidays of the future that Harry could see in his mind's eye, though. He could see himself with Louis on the vacation that the singer wanted to take. Harry didn't know where they would go, but he didn’t really care. He could picture them lounging in the sand on the beach, and dreamed that perhaps he would even have enough confidence to wear an actual swimsuit, but he could also see them in Italy or Greece or even the mountains. In each scenario, they were happy and relaxed, regardless of where they were.

Even better than spending the holidays together or going on fancy vacations, Harry could see, as if he could tell the future, doing the small, ordinary things that couples did every day. Some mornings, they would wake up together while, others, one would wake up to the spot beside them cold, and hurry to find their partner, wrapping their arms around his shoulders or his middle when they found him. He thought about how they would go grocery shopping together and how Harry would probably sometimes bicker about the place being messy, since even Louis admitted to not being the cleanest person. That was okay, though, because Louis would see that Harry wasn't perfect either and he would probably get annoyed that he was sometimes over emotional and could make a big deal out of nothing. In the end, they would always kiss and make up, their love never once faltering.

As odd as it was, that Christmas day was the first day that Harry thought he really felt Louis's love. That was through no fault of the singer because Harry knew he'd been doing everything he should have and trying so hard to get Harry to believe in him since the beginning, but Harry hadn't been ready. He'd eventually accepted that Louis did like him and maybe even loved him, but his mind had shut down to all of the small things that proved that Louis was in love with him; the way Louis touched his back gently as they walked, close together, the way he spoke about himself and Harry as one without erasing Harry's identity as an individual, and how Harry could feel his eyes boring into him even when no one was paying attention.

When they finished presents and Louis yawned, putting his head on Harry's shoulder as he turned to kiss his bicep, Harry suddenly knew that these little signs of affection weren't always premeditated and that they weren't for show. Louis did them because they felt right-because he was in love with Harry, and Harry would be damned if he wasn't hopelessly in love with Louis too.

Gemma made sure to make comments multiple times that day about how strange it was that Harry was dating the guy he'd been in love with since he was a teenager, but Harry knew then that he hadn't truly been in love with Louis before that summer. Most people felt as if they were legitimately in love with their celebrity crushes and some professionals even claimed it could be possible, but Harry hadn't been in love with Louis then. He'd admired him greatly and, sure, he'd thought he was the most beautiful being ever and that he was absolutely perfect, but it was completely different now. Harry knew that Louis wasn't perfect-even if he was close-and he loved him anyway. He was still the most beautiful person that Harry had ever laid eyes on, but Louis could end up in an accident that left him completely deformed physically and Harry would still feel the same way. He loved Louis, not only because he was the only person that could distract Harry from himself and make him feel any happiness and hope at all, but simply because he was Louis. _His_ Louis.

“I don't think you understand, Louis, he pretty much had you wall papered all over his bedroom.”

“Gemma, you're not embarrassing me. You can give up now,” Harry said, and while that would have, at one point, embarrassed him, he knew that Louis wouldn't judge him. He would probably even be flattered, even if Harry found it a little creepy now that he'd had so many pictures of a guy he didn't know on his walls because it hadn't only been one or two photos. Gemma hadn't exaggerated; his bedroom had been nearly covered and, sure, his room was small, but still.

“I still can't believe you hated your picture with him so much that you refused to display it anywhere. Hell, I don't care if I look like an alien from outer space, if I got a picture with Henry Cavill, I would show everyone.”

“Wait, what?” Louis asked, shooting a questioning look to Harry as he took a bite from a Santa cookie that he was snacking on.

“The picture he got when he had VIP passes to one of your shows,” Gemma explained. Meanwhile, Harry tried not to let his panic be known. “He never let anyone see; said he didn't like how he looked in it, because of course he didn't.”

“We'd met before?” Louis asked, actual shock on his face. Harry smiled, and thought it felt like it looked natural enough.

“Yeah, just real quick for the picture,” he said.

“How don't I remember?”

“Well, you meet a lot of fans every show,” Harry laughed.

“Yeah, but you're...you.”

“Back then I was just an awkward sixteen-year-old trying to come to terms with my post-rehab body while meeting the man I'd had fantasy weddings about. If you remembered me, it would be for how much of an idiot I made of myself.”

“I'm sure you didn't,” Louis said. “I want to see the picture! Can I, please?”

Harry laughed, kissing Louis's bottom lip, which he'd stuck far out in a true pout.

“Sure, babe,” he said, trying not to dwell on the disappointment that he knew Louis would feel in him when Harry told him that he'd skipped out on the meet-and-greet part of the whole thing.

“Not fair! I still want to see!” Gemma exclaimed, sounding like a small child.

“I don't care,” Harry teased. She threw a piece of cookie at his face, and when Harry managed to catch it in his mouth, everyone screamed and cheered, much more than was necessary.

Before leaving that evening, Harry had Louis take a picture of him with his family in front of the fireplace, which they seemed happier about than any of the presents they'd received, and then he took one with Louis in front of the tree. He promptly uploaded them both to social media, a little concerned that he looked extra bloated due to the alcohol as well as the holiday and party food he'd consumed, but he told himself that it didn't matter what anyone thought. He was the one with Louis. He was the one whom Louis loved.

 

“Oh, hey, do you have the meet-and-greet picture, or is it somewhere in your mum's place still?” Louis asked as he and his boyfriend got into the singer's car and buckled up.

“There is no picture,” Harry admitted, staring intently out the front window. He felt Louis glance at him, but only briefly, as he then looked behind him and began backing out from the driveway.

“You got rid of it?” he guessed, not sounding disappointed or offended, which surprised Harry.

“No,” he said. “I chickened out on going to the meet-and-greet.”

“Babe,” Louis cooed, patting Harry's leg briefly as he straightened out and began to drive. “Why?”

“I was really insecure then; even more than now. I was afraid of what you would think of me, and I admired you so much and did sometimes think about what would happen if you fell in love with me...I didn't want that fantasy ruined. I didn't think anything like this between me and you would ever happen, but it was nice to dream then.”

“That's sad, but I understand,” Louis said. “Maybe it's best anyway. I'm sure I would have been attracted to you right from the start, but I doubt I could have done much about it then, or that I would have had the balls, and I wouldn't want you to think there was something wrong with you because of it.”

“I guess it all worked out anyway,” Harry said, feeling lighter now that he was convinced that Louis truly wasn't disappointed in him.

“It definitely did,” Louis said, a small smile touching his face as he continued to look out the windshield. He seemed lost in his thoughts and Harry didn't interrupt, but simply smiled to himself and looked out of the side window, getting lost in his own thoughts as well.

 

“This really was the best Christmas of my life so far,” Louis said softly while the two laid in bed that night. He spoke as if he didn't know if Harry was asleep or not and didn't want to wake him if he was, but the dancer had yet to drift off.

“It was for me too,” he agreed, and not only to say it, but because he meant it.

“I love you, Harry,” Louis said.

“I know,” Harry replied. “I love you too.”

 

Louis had been serious about spending New Year's Eve with Jay and Dean, apparently, but Harry didn't mind. It was hilarious, yet cute, how Louis watched his manager the whole night with narrowed eyes, and moved closer to the pair whenever the man would touch Jay for longer than a couple of seconds. Jay and Dean weren't bothered, and Harry quite thought that they touched more often than they would have normally, just to get a rise out of Louis, but he felt like everyone still had fun, and, luckily, Louis missed the way that Dean kissed his mother at midnight because he was too focused on kissing Harry.

Liam arrived back from surprising Niall in Ireland on January second and, on the third, Louis took him to the studio. Harry spent the day with his family and he missed Louis, but was glad they had the time apart because it was nice to know that he missed him when he was gone. They'd spent almost every minute together since the tour started and so, as Harry saw it, if he still craved his presence even after all that time, it meant good things for the future, as long as Louis felt the same way, which he seemed to. He sent Harry videos of Liam singing and editing the recordings, along with messages such as, _Having a great time, but I miss you! See you tonight, xxx_

“So is he ditching dancing for a singing career?” Harry asked of Liam that night as he and Louis washed up together in the bathroom sink.

“Not right away,” Louis said. “We're going to keep working on his music when we can and then, after this tour is over, he may release it as an EP if he decides he wants to try that path. I think he does want to, but he's nervous, which I get.”

Louis coughed and sniffled. Harry raised an eyebrow.

“You've been coughing ever since you got home,” he commented. “Were you coughing all day at the studio too?”

“Uh, I don't think so,” Louis said. “My throat is just dry.”

Harry sighed dramatically, throwing his head back, but then looking at Louis with a smile on his face.

“I forgot; you don't admit even when you don't feel well.”

“I feel fine,” Louis insisted.

“I hope so,” Harry replied. They left for tour again in two days and while it was amusing how much everyone had freaked out the last time Louis had gotten sick on the road, Harry didn't like his boyfriend to be under the weather, especially when he couldn't properly rest.

“I do,” Louis said, “but if I get sick, I can just let you and Liam take over my show. You both did wonderful with that beautiful cover of 'Happy Birthday.'”

Harry laughed, leaning forward to kiss Louis, but the singer moved so that he got his cheek instead of his lips.

“Mhm,” Harry murmured, fearing that his concerns were valid.

“What?” Louis asked.

“Nothing, love,” Harry said, trying again to kiss Louis. The singer turned his head away to cough once more.

“Let's go to bed,” the singer suggested.

“Good idea,” Harry said. “It will help you fight off whatever is trying to get you.”

“I'm not fighting off anything,” Louis claimed, filling up a glass with water and, yet again, coughing as he exited the bathroom. Harry followed him to the bed, successfully giving his boyfriend a forehead kiss before they laid down. So far, he didn't feel warm.

“Get some rest, sickie,” Harry told him.

“I'm healthy as a cat,” Louis said, and Harry felt his eyebrows pull together.

“Are cats known to be particularly healthy?”

“Well, cats are the opposite of dogs and people always say they're sick as a dog, so 'healthy as a cat' is a perfectly logical saying in my eyes.”

“You're cute,” Harry commented, snuggling close to Louis, who typically made sure he was all over Harry while they slept, but for some reason that Harry pretended not to know, he wasn't that night. “Get some rest,” he said again. “Try not to cough up hairballs all night.”

 

“This is a disaster.”

“Beatrice,” Louis croaked, coughing as he tried to laugh. “You're being dramatic.”

“Singing around a cold is simple, but no, when you get sick, you can't just get a regular cold! You have to develop a smoker's cough and become best friends with laryngitis's evil step sister!”

Beatrice had forced Louis to his hotel room as soon as they had arrived in Mexico and she heard him try to speak. She'd then taken his temperature (the joke was on her because he'd taken medicine to get rid of his fever already) and ordered one of the other crew members to deliver every single throat remedy they had lying around.

“I don't have a show for another couple of days,” Louis pointed out.

“You have a television interview tomorrow.”

“I'm still audible enough.”

“What was that?”

Louis glared, and Harry could tell Beatrice wanted to smile, but then she remembered that she was stressed and her forehead creased again.

“Anyway, you need to be resting your voice,” she sighed. “I guess we'll just cancel the interview and hope for the best by the time it's show day.”

“I can be his translator,” Harry offered, causing both Louis and Beatrice to look at him in shock. He fidgeted from his place next to Louis on the bed, but kept his voice confident as he continued. “I know sign language, so, as long as everyone is okay with it, he could sign whatever he wants to say and I could speak it. Obviously, that will only work for the interview, but that way, he won't have to cancel.”

Looking to Louis, Harry added,

“I mean, I won't blame you if you want to cancel since you're not feeling well, but I know how you typically hate canceling.”

“I feel fine,” Louis said, and Harry rolled his eyes, knowing he was lying.

“Honestly, that's the best idea anyone around here has had for a while,” Beatrice said. “We would have to get approval, of course, which I'm sure we would. It would get the job done and the fans would love it. If you're comfortable with it, Harry...”

Harry nodded, but guessed he looked nervous. Louis touched his arm, gaining his attention.

“You don't have to,” he said, through sign, but Harry smiled.

“I want to,” he insisted.

“I'll sort everything out,” Beatrice assured them. “Louis, take your medicine, drink your tea and don't talk.”

Louis flipped her off, but the woman simply patted his head.

“Get some rest, love. Harry...thank you so much.”

“It's no problem,” Harry said with a smile, but Louis didn't look as if he believed him.

“You don't have to do this, Harry,” Louis told him, speaking, once Beatrice had left the room.

“Unless you don't want me to, I'm doing it,” Harry replied.

“Of course I want you to,” Louis said. “You get to be beside me during an interview! What's not to like about that idea?”

“Alright, sh,” Harry hushed him softly.

“Let's practice,” Louis said, rolling over so that he was straddling Harry. He didn't put much weight on him until Harry frowned and, much like Louis always did to Harry, led his hips down so that he was truly sitting on him.

“You don't honestly think you're heavy, do you?” Harry asked.

“No. You're just so small. I don't want to crush you.”

Harry rolled his eyes. He wasn't that small and he may be emotionally fragile, but physically, he didn't think he was.

“You're silly,” he commented. “Now what are we practicing?”

“You being my translator. I'll say something and you quote me word-for-word, okay?”

“Okay.”

Louis began. He went slow, and it was still challenging for Harry, but when the dancer spoke, it was with confidence that he knew exactly what his boyfriend was saying.

“Hello, my name is Louis,” he quoted. Smiling, Louis nodded and continued.

“I have the best fans in the world. Thank you for having me today. I had a lovely time. This all means so much to me. I love you.”

Harry paused as Louis did, his eyebrows pulled together and his lips pursed in confusion.

“Was that for me, or do you have a secret thing for your interviewer?”

Smiling, Louis poked Harry in the chest and the man smiled.

“I love you too,” he replied.

“Back to the interview,” Harry said as Louis signed, and then, “Oh, I wasn't supposed to say that out loud. Sorry.”

Louis smiled and went on.

“The tour has been great so far and I'm excited for the final stretch. I can't believe it is almost over. Harry is-”

Harry paused, clearly not wanting to translate the rest of the sentence, but then he did anyway.

“Harry is beautiful,” he said, but was quick to add, “I agree, babe. Harry Connick Jr. is quite an attractive man.”

Louis laughed, but gave Harry a look as if he were crazy.

“No!” he whispered, and then tried signing again.

“Harry, my boyfriend is…,” the dancer began, and then trailed off.

“Say it!” Louis insisted and moved his hands to speak the sentence again.

“Harry, my boyfriend, is beautiful,” Harry said, the words feeling strange as they came from his mouth. It was worth the huge smile on Louis's face, though.

“Harry is a wonderful dancer,” Harry translated. “Harry is a good person. Harry has a wonderful laugh. Harry is talented.”

The dancer paused again when Louis signed one last thing, and then he smiled.

“Yes, you are beautiful,” he agreed after a couple of moments, smiling in the hopes that he would get away with it. No such luck. Louis shook his head adamantly and pointed to Harry.

“You are beautiful,” Harry told him again. Louis sighed and signed his original sentence. Giving in, Harry licked his lips and forced the words out, almost cringing as he did.

“I am beautiful,” he said. Louis looked as if Christmas had already rolled around again as he excitedly carried on. “I am a wonderful dancer. I am a good person. I have a wonderful laugh. I am talented. I am beautiful.”

Louis put his hands back down to his side, looking quite proud of himself.

“You're a nutcase,” Harry said, leaning up and lifting Louis's shirt slightly so that he could blow a raspberry on his stomach. The singer laughed, swatting lightly at Harry before falling to the side.

“My turn,” Harry said, turning to the side to face his boyfriend and supporting his head with his hand. “I'm going to say something and you have to sign it.”

Louis looked confused, but nodded.

“Louis has the cutest ears ever,” Harry said. The singer laughed, shaking his head.

“Hey, fair is fair,” Harry told him, smiling.

“I don't play fair,” Louis said, through sign language.

“Please?” Harry asked, widening his eyes and sticking out his lip. Louis rolled his own eyes, but then waved his hand, signaling the other to go on.

“Louis has the cutest ears ever,” the dancer repeated, and Louis signed it. “Louis has a beautiful voice.”

Louis wrinkled his nose, disagreeing, but signed it anyway. Even though he had stopped outwardly saying that he didn't like his voice, like he'd done in a couple interviews at the beginning of his career, Harry could see it on his face whenever he hit a note that wasn't flawless, or, sometimes, even if he did hit every note perfectly. He saw it in the way he would never look at Harry when he was singing to him one on one and how he was always quick to start a conversation afterward so that Harry wouldn't be expected to tell him that he sounded amazing, even though he always did.

“Good,” Harry complimented at the correct translation. “Now...I have the cutest ears ever. I have a beautiful voice.”

Louis paused, but he translated Harry's words and the dancer smiled, kissing Louis on the forehead.

“There we go,” he said. “I think we can send Dr. King home now. We're healed.”

Louis laughed a little, just blowing air through his nose.

“Don't be a brat,” he signed.

“No, I appreciate what you were doing,” Harry assured him, “and I liked seeing you compliment yourself too.”

Louis smiled, his eyelids growing heavy just like that. Harry patted his boyfriend's hip and sat up.

“I'm going to make you some of that tea and then you need to take a nap, okay?”

Louis nodded, thanking Harry.

“You're welcome,” Harry assured him, taking a mug from the top of the microwave and going to the bathroom to fill it with water. He didn't realize he was smiling until he looked in the mirror, and for once, he didn't cringe at his reflection. He was running on minimal sleep and grungy from a long plane ride, but even with his hair slightly greasy and his makeup starting to slide off, he didn't look bad. He wouldn't go so far as to say that he was beautiful, but Harry was content with himself in that moment. He supposed he could kind of see what had attracted Louis to him in the first place, and he gave his reflection one more smile before heading back out to the main room to put Louis's tea in the microwave.

 

 

 


	43. Chapter 43

***Louis***

Even though Harry was very obviously nervous-his fists clenched tightly by his side and his breathing labored-he assured Louis with a steady voice that he wanted to do this; he wanted to be his translator. Louis was proud of him, but a little worried. While he had the confidence that Harry would do a great job and that the fans would fall more in love with him and Louis as a couple, as well as with Harry as an individual, he was also almost certain that Harry wouldn't see it that way. If he made even the smallest of mistakes, he would berate himself until the tiny amount of confidence Louis had seen him develop recently vanished completely. All it would take was one wrong look or word from someone and Harry's sense of self-worth would be destroyed.

The live audience screamed louder than Louis had ever heard in a studio setting, and he had no doubt that most of it was for Harry, who was holding tightly onto Louis's hand until they had to break apart to take their separate seats. Both interviewers greeted Harry warmly and thanked him for making sure the session was still possible. Harry was questioned on when and why he learned sign language, and the dancer answered without even a slight quiver to his voice, even if he was a bit fidgety. Most likely, no one even noticed because Louis could never sit still either.

While translating, Louis made sure to sign to Harry even slower than they had done during their 'practice session' in the hotel room the previous day. Even though Harry had done a perfect job, Louis knew the added nerves would quite possibly trip him up, but, in the end, he had nothing to worry about. Harry did a perfect job once again, and as the minutes passed, Louis saw him start to relax. By the end, his smile was even genuine.

“I can't believe how fast that went,” Harry commented once the interview was over and the two were ushered backstage and offered snacks, which both politely declined.

“You did great, love!” Louis signed, and then pulled his boyfriend into a tight, yet fast, hug. Harry smiled, kissed Louis on the forehead and promptly collapsed into the nearest chair, his anxiety finally getting the best of him.

Harry made Louis proud almost every single day, but in that moment, he didn't think he'd ever felt it stronger.

 

The first time Louis had been sick on tour, everyone had somehow gotten lucky and avoided catching it from him. That time, it spread like the plague, getting nearly everyone, including Harry.

Though it wasn't funny that Harry was ill, Louis couldn't help but to find it somewhat humorous how little tolerance Harry had to a cold. He felt bad for him, he really did, because even though Louis had put on a brave face and chugged through, it had been a miserable thing. Louis wasn't doubting that his boyfriend felt terrible, but given what he'd gone through physically when he'd barely been eating, Louis had expected Harry to power through the cold like it was nothing.

He was wrong.

When sick, Harry became extremely cuddly-which Louis had no problems with-and very whiny. He wouldn't even whine over anything in particular, but let out small moans and whimpers every now and then. Each time, Louis would apologize for getting him sick and Harry would say he hated him but then pull him closer and whisper in his ear that he loved him.

Harry's appetite vanished while he was sick, which was the most worrisome part of all. Louis knew he shouldn't get upset because even he hadn't wanted to eat much for the first couple of days he'd been sick, but it scared him; Harry refusing food. He feared that he would become addicted to the starvation again or that he would lose weight while sick and not want to gain it back.

By some miracle, that didn't happen. Harry was becoming stronger not only physically, but emotionally as well and so of course he deserved all the credit for not relapsing when it would probably be most easy. However, there was one particular fan that Louis felt he had to thank as well.

Since his crew was amazing, every show went on, even through all the sickness, without one single person taking a sick day. Finally, after nearly two weeks of various individuals falling ill, the virus seemed to be vanishing. Harry had been symptom free for over a day, except for having a decreased appetite, which Louis wasn't blaming solely on the cold. He promised Louis that he would eat dinner, and so, even though Louis thoroughly enjoyed his meet-and-greets, he was anxious for it to be over so that Harry could get some food in his system, besides broth.

Towards the end of the session, a boy approached. Louis wasn't very good at guessing ages, but if he had to, he would have placed him at about seventeen. He had hair that was dyed black, making his bright blue eyes even brighter, though at that moment, his eyes showed fear.

“Hello, darling!” Louis greeted, making sure to smile extra widely at the boy. The fan gave a small smile, but his nerves remained.

“Um, hi,” he said quietly once he was closer to Louis. The singer guessed he was leery of anyone else hearing and he inched forward even more.

“How are you?” the singer asked.

“Fine,” the boy said. “I just...um...Sorry…but I have something for you...and for Harry, if that's okay. It's just a letter. Well, individual letters to the both of you.”

“Sure!” Louis said. “I can take them if you want and I'll make sure Harry gets his.”

The fan nodded, taking two folded pieces of paper from his pocket and handing them over. One had 'Louis' written on the front in neat cursive, while the other had his boyfriend's name.

“Should I read mine now?” Louis asked.

“You don't have to,” the other said quickly. “It's just...um...I've had issues a lot like Harry's and I just wanted to thank you both for...Well, you'll see.”

Louis's heart felt as if it grew bigger while simultaneously feeling like it broke. It was a strange feeling, and the only thing he could think to do was to pull the boy into a hug. When he let go, the teen was smiling a bit more naturally; his posture not quite as tense.

“Are you doing alright now?” Louis asked, and the boy nodded. He seemed sincere. Louis told him how glad he was, thanked him for the letters, took the picture, gave him another hug and fought off tears while the next fan approached.

 

“Hey, Bumble Bee?” the singer called softly to his tour manager once the meet-and-greet was over and everyone was headed off to their next task.

“Yes, diva?” the woman asked, turning on her heel and looking down the bridge of her nose at the man, but her stern look was ruined by the way her lips were quirked up. Louis smiled at her.

“A fan wrote Harry and me letters,” he said, “and I feel weird reading Harry's, so can you take a look at it for me? I think the kid is sincere, but I don't want to end up being duped and letting Harry read hate mail or something.”

“Sure, sweetie,” the lady said, taking the piece of paper from him and carefully unfolding it. Her face was expressionless as she began reading, but, slowly, her forehead began to crease and she sucked in her cheeks, like she always did when deep in concentration. Louis grew nervous, but then, as Beatrice folded the letter back up, she blinked away tears and said,

“It's fine. I think he'll like it.”

Clearing her throat, she asked, “Do you want me to look over yours too?”

“No, that's okay, Bumble Bee. Thanks.”

“You're welcome. You know, Lou, this tour is finished in just a little over a month.”

“I know. That's crazy,” Louis said, shock hitting him like it did every time he remembered just how close to wrapping this tour up they were.

“This is the first time ever that I don't think I'm going to have to worry about sending you home,” the lady commented, and Louis looked at her curiously.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you have a wonderful mother, Louis, as I'm sure you know. Hell, she's basically a saint, but I know you keep a lot from her, as we all do from our parents. We try to protect them against the parts of us that are unhappy so they don't feel as if they failed somewhere along the line. You were a lonely young man when I first met you, and I always worried when you were at home by yourself with nothing to distract you from the loneliness. Even when you dated that God-awful model, who I know you liked, but honestly, he was a disaster...Anyway, even with him, you were still more unhappy than otherwise. Now, you have Harry, and as your self-appointed second mother, I couldn't have dreamed of anyone better for you.”

A wide grin spread across Louis's face and he pulled his tour manager and second mother into a tight hug. Beatrice gave him a hard time sometimes, but Louis knew she always did it with love. Still, it was nice to hear her say these things.

“I'll see you in about two years for another tour?” Louis asked as the woman patted him lightly on the back.

“I better see you before that, potentially for a wedding,” the woman said and Louis laughed, though warmed at the thought.

 

“Hey, beautiful,” Louis greeted his boyfriend as he entered his dressing room. Harry was alone at the moment, curled in on himself on the couch and flipping through a magazine, which he put down as Louis entered, giving the man a smile.

“Hi!” he returned, pecking Louis on the lips when he sat next to him. “How was the meet-and-greet?”

“It went great. A fan wrote us letters.”

“Us?” Harry asked, one eyebrow going up slightly.

“Yeah,” Louis said. “He told me that he had...Well, I'm guessing an eating disorder, but he wrote a letter to you and then a separate one to me, thanking us. Would you like yours now?”

Harry nodded, already seeming speechless, and so Louis handed over the piece of paper that had his name written on it.

As curious as Louis was to read his own, he couldn't peel his eyes from Harry as he read. His reaction was much like Beatrice's, though his lip quivered and his eyes fogged up much before hers did.

“You okay?” Louis asked softly. Harry simply nodded and continued reading.

“Oh my god,” he mumbled once he'd finally finished. Louis stared, curious but not asking. After taking another moment, Harry said, “I honestly didn't think I would ever...affect someone that way.”

“Do you want to tell me what it said?” Louis asked.

“You can read it,” Harry offered, holding out his sheet. It had felt weird before, but now that he had Harry's permission, Louis took the letter back and began to read, nearly shaking as he did so.

_Harry,_

_I'm sorry if this is weird or uncomfortable for you to read, but I feel like I would regret not telling you all of this and I know I probably won't get another chance._

_For three years, I have suffered from something that I didn't think someone like me should ever suffer from. I ha_ _ve_ _no reason. My life is fine. My parents are great, I have friends, I do well in school...But for some reason, it's so hard for me just to eat. I hate everything I see when I look in the mirror and I despise everything I say when I choose to speak. Or at least I did._

_I've been a fan of Louis's for a while, and I admit that he would probably be listed as one of my celebrity crushes, so when I saw that he was dating you, it was disappointing. I know that's stupid. It's not like regular people have a shot with celebrities anyway, but it was more than that to me. As I saw it, it was just another example of some gorgeous, fit guy falling for the equally gorgeous, fit guy who, on the outside, seemed like he was happy and had it all together. Then you came out and admitted your struggles with an eating disorder and it all changed._

_I know we're not alike now, but I realize that, at one point, we were. You weren't always a famous dancer. You weren't always dating one of the best known singers around. You weren't always happy, and while I don't know if you are now either, I see your posts and they give me hope. Your posts seem happier and less forced than they used to, even if that's a bit weird for me to notice. If so, I'm sorry. Maybe it's all in my head, but you seem like you're getting better and it makes me feel like I can too. I got help a few months ago, a little bit after you told us all about your struggles, because someday, I want to be where you appear to be at, and for the first time, I feel like I can get there. It's still a challenge, as I know you know, but I'm on the better end of things, I think._

_I don't feel like I've said half of what I wanted to say in this letter, but I'll summarize by simply saying thank you. Admitting what you did was exactly the kind of bravery that someone needs to get better, and it inspired me to find that bravery within myself. You may have saved my life and I'm grateful. Thank you again, and good luck._

_-Jackson_

“Told you you're brave,” Louis said, carelessly letting a tear roll down his cheek as he finished reading the letter.

“After I wrote that statement about the disorder, I only expected people to judge me. I felt like they've all been looking at me and trying to decide if I was lying; trying to get attention, or not. I didn't actually expect it to help anyone.”

“You never do see quite how amazing you are,” Louis told him. “Even if this is the only person you touched, you're a hero, but you realize there could be so many more? And there probably are.”

The corners of Harry's mouth turned upward, then his nose twitched and he cleared his throat.

“What did yours say?” he asked.

“I don't know. I haven't read it yet,” Louis said, carefully laying Harry's letter across the dancer's lap and pulling out his own, which he read out loud.

' _Louis,_

 _I've been a_ _huge_ _fan of yours for years,_ _but I've recently come to realize that I didn't really know anything about you. Sure, I knew all of your lyrics and all of the fun facts you released to interviewers and writers for magazine articles, but that doesn't really tell anyone anything. You're still a celebrity with a seemingly perfect life and you could have probably almost anyone you want, so the fact that you would choose someone with such a complicated disorder really shows what a strong, wonderful person you are. I_ _heard that it's_ _hard to love someone when they can't love themselves, and it's hard for them to show you the love you deserve when they don't like themselves too. I'm not trying to say that I know anything about your relationship with Harry. I'm just speaking from my own experience with anorexia nervosa, so forgive me if I'm wrongly assuming._

_Either way, there are obviously extra stressors in your relationship that most don't have, and you don't have to stick around. Most people probably wouldn't, but you have and it is clear how much you love him. Love takes work, and the fact that your love could bloom with so many forces working against it is inspiring. There have to be others like you, and I no longer feel completely unlovable just because of this thing in my head that I have a hard time turning off. I just have to find someone strong enough to see the real me behind it, like you do with Harry. Thank you for continuing to be there for me at the hardest times of my life, even though you don't know that you are. I can't wait to see what's in store for you next._

_-Jackson_

“That's so nice,” Harry said, his voice thick. “And he's right. I know it's not always easy being with me. No relationship is easy all of the time, but we're on a whole other level and, still, you've never made me feel like you're going to walk away. This thing did, at first, but you never have. You're so careful to always say and do the right thing, even though I don't expect you to, and I, too, want you to know how much that means to people like me.”

“I can't imagine not being with you, and I can't fathom expecting you to do all the work in getting better,” Louis told his boyfriend. “Yes, in the long run, it's up to you, but no one should be expected to get better by themselves, with just a little pill to help them. I can't fix you, but I want to make things as easy as I can on you while you work on doing that yourself.”

“I spent years dreaming of you, Lou, and you've beaten every single false version of you I had in my head.”

Louis leaned to the side, kissing Harry softly, yet intimately, and the dancer smiled when they slowly broke apart.

“I wish this guy, Jackson, had left a way for us to get back with him,” Harry said, frowning at the letter.

“I'm on it,” Louis said. Harry quirked an eyebrow.

“What do you plan on doing?”

“Well, he clearly follows us on one of our social media accounts or another,” Louis reasoned. “It should only take a day or so to find him, right?”

 

Luckily, Jackson saved Louis from spending too long looking for him when he tweeted about his show (saying he had the best time of his life.) While his letter had meant a lot to Louis, the singer didn't know what to say to him, but Harry assured him that he would take care of it. He didn't tell Louis what he'd said to the fan and Louis didn't ask, but he knew the message would somehow make him love Harry more, and so he thought his love grew for him just because.

Harry's appetite seemed to return after that, and while Louis was still worried, he knew he would always worry about Harry. Worry was a part of loving someone, and it was totally worth all of the gray hair he would one day have to cover and Botox he would soon need.

***Harry***

January passed much faster than should be possible and then it was February; the last month of tour.

With February also came Harry's birthday and, of course, Louis went all out. When Harry had told him that he didn't care what they did, he had expected a nice dinner with Louis and a few friends and then finding something fun in the area to do for a few hours.

He hadn't expected Louis to book them a limo-driven tour of Rome and then rent out a cinema for the entire tour crew later that night. They took limos to the theater, too, and Harry found a moment to take Niall aside and inform him that sex in a limo was another thing on Liam's bucket list. The smirk on his face told Harry that Liam would be able to check another thing off his list that night.

Even though his party was more than he would have ever hoped for, Harry had a great time and when he and Louis returned to their hotel room (the honeymoon suite) tipsy, Harry had managed to take his boyfriend's shirt off before the door was even closed all of the way. Giggling, the dancer nipped at the man's collarbone and then kissed all the way up to his lips, expertly unbuttoning his jeans as he did so.

“Hold on, babe,” Louis said during one of their brief breaks for air. He pushed Harry off of him gently, and Harry would probably have been emotionally wounded if Louis wasn't looking at him in such a soft, loving way.

“What's wrong, darling?” Harry asked, tilting his head in concern, which was a bad idea. He got dizzy and had to squeeze his eyes shut for just a moment.

“Nothing's wrong,” Louis said, going around Harry to approach the dresser and rummage through the top drawer. “I just have one more present for you and I want to give it to you before we finish our celebration and I pass out.”

“I didn't need another present,” Harry said, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning back in what he hoped was a somewhat seductive manner, but probably wasn't. He was too tipsy to care. “The new dancing shoes were amazing, love.”

“I'm glad you like them,” Louis said, taking a seat next to Harry with a small, wrapped box in hand. “I really want you to have this though.”

Harry opened the present, smiling when he saw the key chain that Louis had apparently had made for them. The words 'everything is better when we're together' were engraved on the surface as well as a date; the day they had first called each other their boyfriend.

“It's so cute,” Harry commented, lifting up the key chain and then gasping in shock because there was actually a key attached!

Louis let out a small laugh.

“Do you still like it now that you've seen that part?” he asked.

“What's it to?” Harry asked, gaping at the key as if it would unlock the secrets to life, love and the universe.

“My place,” Louis said. “Our place, if you want it to be. That's to the London home, but I have one for you for the California one as well.”

“Really?” Harry asked breathlessly, feeling as if he'd run a mile just then.

“Of course,” Louis said, smiling. Or, Harry thought he was smiling, but his vision wasn't in the best state for multiple reasons. “I know we kind of mentioned you staying there before, but I don't want you to feel like a guest. I want you to feel at home because it is your home, if you want it to be.”

“Yes!” Harry said when the last word was barely out of Louis's mouth, leaping on top of his boyfriend and not even fearing if he was crushing him or not. He _felt_ light in that instance, at least. “I was so scared that you weren't going to ask and that I would go back to live with my parents and that we would see each other every now and then but you would end up too busy and so the visits would grow farther and farther apart until we didn't see each other anymore and then I was just somebody that you used to know.”

“Somebody that I used to know?” Louis laughed, but then leaned up to kiss Harry. “That would never happen, love, even if you chose to still live somewhere else, but I would really love it if you lived with me.”

“Yes,” the dancer said again, kissing his boyfriend feverishly. “Yes, yes, yes, yes!”

“Okay, Harry, calm down. I haven't even touched you yet,” Louis teased, and then proceeded to unbutton his boyfriend's shirt.

 

Soon after Harry's birthday came Valentine's Day. It was nice, and he and Louis spoiled each other, naturally, but it really wasn't much different than a normal day to Harry. Louis did romantic things every day, not just on that one holiday, and he and Harry loved each other every day of the year.

While Harry was having a great time on tour, he was suddenly excited for it to end. He wanted to see what the next chapter of his and Louis's life together had in store for them. He couldn't wait to move his few belongings that he would keep into Louis's place-and his place now too-and find a spot for them to fit. They may look a bit out of place, as Harry didn't have nearly as nice of things as Louis did, but he was confident that they would be able to fit them in perfectly together, which may or may not have been a metaphor for himself and Louis.

***Liam***

Having sex in a limo definitely worked out better in the movies, but that didn't mean that Liam wasn't still having the time of his life. He and Niall had asked the driver to please take them to a nearby liquor store, as they had 'run out' back at the cinema, and then they had proceeded to close the window between themselves and the chauffeur, giggling and hushing each other as they kissed and undressed.

The seats weren't quite big enough to get in the most comfortable of positions and it was hard to keep their balance with the vehicle moving. They felt as if they were being watched as the world passed them by outside, even though they knew they weren't, and at one point, when they moved to the floor, hoping for better luck, Liam hit his head against the liquor cabinet, but still, the experience was everything that he had hoped it would be.

“You've made all my dreams come true,” Liam sighed happily, cheesily brushing Niall's cheek with his thumb once his lover had collapsed next to him after they had finished each other off. He could get away with being a little extra sappy, though, because it was Niall and, also, neither of them were completely sober.

“Glad I could be of service,” Niall commented, smiling sleepily as he nuzzled into Liam's side.

“Don't say that,” Liam said. “It makes you sound like a prostitute.”

“I'm your whore, baby; do what you want with me.”

Liam laughed, angling Niall's head up so that he could kiss his lips.

“That sounds like a scenario for another time,” he said.

 

“I can't believe that he actually made it so we'll be in Paris on Valentine's Day,” Liam stated flatly while on the airplane heading to France.

“Me neither,” Niall said, but his was more of a dreamy sigh.

“I think he's sappier than you,” Liam commented.

“Never. I take great pride in my level of cheese.”

“It works for you.”

“So…,” Niall began, and then cut himself off.

“So…?” Liam prodded.

“Never mind,” Niall said, smiling at Liam, who narrowed his eyes.

“Tell me.”

“It's just that you're cute,” the smaller dancer said, kissing Liam's lips quickly.

“That's not what you were going to say.”

“Was too.”

“No, it wasn't.”

“Are you a mind reader now?”

“Yes, I am, actually.”

“Well, you're a terrible mind reader then, because that is exactly what I was going to say.”

“Rude.”

“You know I L-word you, boo,” Niall said, choosing to kiss Liam's cheek then. “I'm taking a nap. See you soon!”

 

The people of France really liked Niall. _Most_ people really liked Niall, Liam knew. He was cute, charming and charismatic and he drew attention nearly every time they were out, but it was different in France. Maybe the French were just more open with their admiration, but no where else had Niall been greeted by a taxi driver with, “Hey, cute boy,” or looked up and down so noticeably by the bell boy at the hotel. Even the lady that delivered their room service to them giggled almost uncontrollably when Niall tipped her.

Typically, it didn't bother Liam. Niall deserved all the admiration in the world, but for some reason, it was really annoying him that night. Maybe he was just tired, he thought. Though he'd grown accustomed to being jet lagged, it didn't change the fact that his mind was exhausted, so after taking a few bites of his dinner, he announced that he was going to bed. Niall, of course, asked if he was okay and Liam said he was because, even though he didn't feel it, he knew he had no reason to not be alright. He just needed sleep and in the morning, he would be fine.

Unfortunately, Liam didn't sleep well that night. His mind never fully shut off, wanting to keep showing him images of Niall and the attractive bell boy.

Niall had stayed awake quite a bit longer after Liam had gone to bed, which he knew because he kept tossing and turning, his eyes opening every so often to make sure that Niall was still in the room with him. He always was; at one point, sitting in the chair in the corner reading a book, then doing something on his laptop with his ear phones and then eating another snack before finally laying in bed behind Liam, who jolted when he felt the other man's arms snake around him.

“Sh, it's okay,” Niall whispered, checking Liam's sweaty forehead for a fever. Maybe he did have one, because surely he shouldn't be sweating when they were in France in the cold month of February, but he didn't think so. Niall got back out of bed and Liam heard him turn down the heat before he laid down again.

“You'll be cold,” Liam murmured, sounding drunk.

“I'll be okay,” Niall said, burying his face into the other's back. “You'll keep me warm. Are you feeling okay?”

“Fine,” Liam said, starting to drift off again. Niall replied with something, but he wasn't sure what because he was too far gone and too tired to pull himself back.

Due to the lack of sleep, Liam still wasn't in the best of moods the next day. Well, he blamed the lack of sleep, at least, though he felt as if he probably would have been in the same mood no matter how much rest he'd gotten.

It was the thirteenth of February; show day. The next day, Valentine's Day, they all had off to go explore the city of love, but Liam wished they would have had a concert to distract from the fact that it was that particular holiday. They didn't, though, and there was nothing he could do about it, so he performed as usual that night, making sure he didn't put on a sour face until after the show, when he went straight back to the bus and collapsed onto the couch, throwing his arm over his eyes and not even having the energy or motivation to make it to the bunks.

“Hey, Li?”

“Hm?” Liam mumbled when he heard Niall call his name not even three minutes later.

“A bunch of us are thinking of going out. What do you think?”

“I don't want to,” Liam replied, uncovering his eyes to look at Niall, “but, obviously, you can go if you want to.”

Drinking sounded amazing to Liam at the moment. Getting drunk-black out drunk, which he hadn't done in far too long-sounded like the best idea that Liam had had in a while, but he wasn't in the mood to go out and smile in front of his friends while people hit on Niall left and right and Niall smiled back, potentially falling for them instead; falling for someone who could love him as he wanted and deserved to be loved.

“Okay, what's up?” Niall asked, sitting by Liam's feet.

“What do you mean?” Liam replied, though he already had a feeling that he knew where Niall was going with the conversation.

“You've been acting off,” Niall said gently, confirming Liam's suspicions. “It feels like something is wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong,” Liam said. “I just haven't been sleeping well.”

“I know you haven't,” Niall told him. “Is there a reason?”

“Not one that I know of.”

Niall visibly held in a sigh.

“Okay,” he said.

 

Once back at the hotel, Niall showered and got ready to go out while Liam laid in bed and watched him do his hair, staring at his face reflected back at him from the mirror. When Niall felt his eyes on him, he smiled.

“You changing your mind about coming?” he asked.

“No,” Liam said, smiling too because it felt like the right thing to do. “Just admiring you.”

“You know, I kind of feel like just staying here with you,” Niall said, crawling across the bed until he was directly in front of Liam.

“No, you don't,” Liam disagreed.

“Yeah, I do.”

“If you wanted to stay in, you wouldn't have gotten ready to go out.”

“It feels weird going without you.”

“You'll have fun and I'll be fine,” Liam said, leaning forward to kiss Niall on the forehead before getting to his feet and stretching. “I'm going to shower and go to bed. I'll see you when you get back and I'll have the water and pain killers ready.”

“I'm not going to get that drunk,” Niall assured Liam with a smile. Liam silently disagreed, figuring Niall would be bought drinks all night.

“Have fun,” Liam said before going to the bathroom. He stalled before getting in the shower and it took a few minutes but, finally, he heard the door close as Niall left.

 

 

_Liam and Niall never got to get drunk and work on their school project together. Liam's grandmother had fallen suddenly ill and had to be hospitalized, so Liam took a train to visit her that Saturday. The good news was that she was going to be fine and Liam went back to school the very next day. The bad news was that he didn't get a single bit of his project done._

_It was tempting to just skip all of his classes the next day and work on his project, but Liam had spent the previous night drinking to try to ease the stress of it all and so he knew that, if he stayed in his dorm, he would only end up sleeping the day away. He might as well go to class, put on his sexiest pout and beg for an extension._

_“Hey, how's your nan?” Niall asked Liam as he took his seat next to him in class, looking genuinely concerned._

_“She's fine,” Liam said, smiling the best he could around the killer headache he had. “Thanks for asking.”_

_“Good,” Niall said. “Did you get any of the project done?”_

_“Sure didn't,” Liam answered. Niall gave him a sympathetic look, but Liam shrugged it off. It was his own fault, and he could accept that. Besides, he was confident that he would get that extension. It wasn't like Professor Noble didn't give him the creeper stare and brush by him too closely every single class._

_As the professor went around collecting the papers and Liam didn't have one, he clucked disapprovingly, though there was a slight smirk on his face._

_“No project, Liam?” Noble asked._

_“No, sir,” Liam confirmed, making sure that his eyes were as wide as could be as he nervously tugged on his hair, showcasing his biceps quite well. Noble looked him over, his smirk growing._

_“See me after class, Liam.”_

_“Yes, sir.”_

_Liam dropped his seductive pose as soon as Noble walked by and Liam was in Niall's eyesight. He didn't know why he cared if he saw, but he did._

_When Niall locked eyes with Liam, he gave him a sympathetic smile and Liam shrugged as if he had not a care in the world when, in fact, he could feel his heart beating hard in his chest._

 

_Liam stayed seated after class. When all of the other students had filed out, Noble closed and locked the door, sitting backwards in the seat in front of Liam, who smiled innocently, even though he felt a bit sick._

_“What happened to your project, Liam?” The older man asked, not sounding as if he actually cared much._

_“I procrastinated and was going to do it this weekend, but then my nan ended up in the hospital,” the dancer explained truthfully._

_“I'm sorry to hear that. How is she doing?”_

_“She's fine now.”_

_“Good. Good, good, good. However, as sorry as I am, you've had the whole semester to work on this project. If it was at all done, I would consider giving you an extension with no penalty, but you have nothing to turn in, correct?”_

_“You are correct, sir.”_

_“That's a shame.”_

_“Is there anything I can do?” Liam asked, the slightest of smirks on his lips while he widened his eyes pleadingly and sat up straighter._

_Though they were alone, Noble looked around the classroom a couple of times before answering._

_“As I'm sure you know, you have quite the reputation around here,” the older man stated._

_“I know, and I live up to that reputation quite well, if I do say so myself,” Liam assured the other, smiling confidently while his palms sweat._

_“I believe it,” Noble commented. “Now, you are an attractive man, Liam, don't get me wrong, but you are just a bit young for my taste. However, if you were to do a favor for a good...erm...friend of mine, we could pretend that your due date was next Monday instead.”_

_“Sure, I can do that,” Liam agreed, feeling even worse now that he was basically being whored out, but he had set himself up for this at some point, so it really shouldn't have bothered him. “Do I know your...uh...friend?”_

_“Yes, you do. He's had a thing for you since you first stepped in his classroom, but he's a bit of a shy guy. He would never do something on his own.”_

_“Who is it?” Liam asked, because Noble had been the only professor that he had ever assumed liked him._

_“Professor Fugate,” Noble answered; Liam's psychology professor. Liam managed to hide his cringe just in time. Professor Fugate wasn't bad, he guessed, but he was older than Fugate- nearly as old as Liam's father-and balding._

_Whatever would get him that extension, though, and besides, Liam liked a challenge. He wasn't given them nearly enough._

_“I can do that,” Liam said, “but when?”_

_“He's staying after tonight because he won't be here for the next couple of days. His last class ends at eight thirty, so I would say a bit after that.”_

_Liam nodded, swallowing and hoping it went unnoticed._

_“Got it.”_

_“Tomorrow is his birthday, so if he gives you a good enough grade, we just may be able to pretend you already turned in your project.”_

_Liam almost told Noble to forget it right then. He was a sexual creature for the fun of it. It wasn't a weapon or tool, but he'd already committed and Liam never backed out once he'd made up his mind. He wouldn't have nearly the reputation he did if that was the case._

_“I'll give him a great birthday surprise then,” Liam assured his professor, giving him a smile, which was returned._

_“I believe you,” he said again._

_Noble stood, walking with his head held high back to his desk. Liam took that as his cue and headed to the door, pausing before he opened it._

_“Professor?”_

_“Yes?”_

_“This may be blunt, but I see the looks you give me and I know how you always brush by me. I don't mind, but I'm just confused. You really aren't interested?”_

_“As I said, Liam, you're an attractive man, but, no. I was simply trying to get a feel for if your talents could be used on a professor.”_

_Liam nodded, trying not to take that as an insult, and left the room. He decided to skip his last couple classes of the day._

 

_**How did it go with Noble?** Niall asked Liam through a text message later that evening as Liam looked through his dresser, trying to figure out what to wear for Professor Fugate's birthday surprise._

_**Good,** Liam typed after debating whether he should reply at all. **He's letting me turn it in next week and docking some points off.**_

_**Better than nothing I guess,** Niall said._

_**Yeah, definitely =]**_

_**I'm glad. See you tomorrow!** _

_Niall didn't see Liam the next day, though, or the next. The two didn't see each other until over a year later, at Louis's pre-tour party because Liam and Fugate were caught by an unforgiving janitor, who told the dean._

_The whole deed wasn't as bad as Liam had imagined it. The surprise and bliss on Fugate's face when Liam told him happy birthday as he sunk down on his lap and started sucking his neck was kind of hot, and the professor didn't even want to go all the way with him. All he asked for was a simple blow job, which Liam assured him he could definitely do for him._

_He had been just about to finish him when the old man in charge of cleaning the classroom unlocked the door and walked in. In the heat of the moment, neither Liam nor Fugate had heard him and so they didn't have time to hide or even change positions to make their rendezvous look slightly more innocent._

_Though Liam would deny it if he had to, he cried in the dean's office, so much so that they took it upon themselves to get in contact with another dance academy to get Liam's transfer situated for him. Liam hadn't been crying for fear of his future as a dancer, though. He wouldn't admit it, even to himself, but Liam had been crying because he didn't want to leave Niall. Liam didn't have friends; he had sex buddies, but Niall didn't fall into that category. Calling him an acquaintance didn't sound right either because Liam cared about him and sometimes it seemed like Niall cared about him too. Liam was afraid of commitment, but there was something about Niall that made him want to get over that fear._

_There was no use dwelling on it then. Liam was kicked out of school and, at the time, was convinced that he would never see Niall again. He thought about texting him for weeks after, but he could never get the courage. Besides, if Niall wanted to talk to him that badly, he could get a hold of him too, but he didn't. Liam had been wrong. He didn't care._

 

When Liam got out of the shower, he immediately headed back to the bed, but jumped as he rounded the corner and saw someone already lying there on top of the sheets. It wasn't a random person, just Zayn, but that didn't stop Liam from nearly shouting out in shock.

Unaffected, Zayn smiled, sitting up against some pillows.

“Hey, bro, what's up?”

“How did you get in here?” Liam returned.

“Niall let me in,” Zayn said simply.

“Why?”

“So I could talk to you.”

“Again...why?”

“Because you're being a downer and that's not like you.”

“I'm not being a downer,” Liam said, crossing his arms for a moment before he realized he was pouting like a child.

“You kind of are,” Zayn told him, “but don't worry, mate. We're just concerned. Now, what's wrong? You're not one of those people that feel like they have to be in a bad mood around Valentine's Day because they're either single or anti-love are you?”

“No. I'm one of those people that are legitimately in a bad mood around Valentine's Day because it's a reminder of something I'll never have.”

“Dramatic and inaccurate,” Zayn stated. “I think we're much past the point where you can't see that Niall loves you and I feel like you have to know, at least deep down, that you love him too.”

“So? I still can't tell him.”

“So you _do_ love him!” Zayn said, sitting up straighter against the pillows with a wide smile on his face.

“Is that really a surprise?” Liam asked, sitting on the end of the bed and again crossing his arms, making sure to keep his distance.

“It's not a surprise, no. I'm just wondering why you can't tell him if you can tell me.”

“I don't know,” Liam admitted after trying and failing to find a good excuse.

“Because you _can_ tell him,” Zayn concluded. “You just have to stop being so stubborn and do it.”

“He'll find someone else tonight anyway,” Liam mumbled, looking at the bed sheets while he scratched at his arm. Zayn moved his hand, but continued talking as if Liam hadn't just gotten weird again.

“What the bloody hell are you on about?” he asked.

“So many people want Niall and he's all about this holiday. He won't spend it alone.”

“Leeyum,” Zayn groaned, drawling out every letter of the man's name. “You're a proper idiot, mate. He'd rather spend the night alone than with someone that isn't you.”

“I don't know,” Liam sighed, rubbing his face like that could make him stop thinking about all of this.

“You know what?” Zayn spoke. “Maybe one day he will move on, Liam, but it's not because he wants to. He loves you. Everyone knows that and everyone knows you love him too, even him, I think, but he needs commitment. I know you don't mean to hurt him, and right now, Niall has accepted things how they are, but what about in five years when you're still kissing him and doing everything but saying you love him and calling him your boyfriend? What about in ten years when you both are in your thirties and everyone else is starting families but you won't marry him? That's going to hurt. Everyone has to make sacrifices for love, and Niall will. He already has, but you need to make some too, mate. It's scary, but if it's true love, which, with my little knowledge on the subject, I would still say it is, it will be worth it.”

All Liam could do after Zayn's speech was stare. He could distantly feel moisture welling up in his eyes and even though crying in front of others was basically his biggest fear, he couldn't bring himself to care enough to fight the tears off or slickly wipe them away. It took Zayn a moment to realize what was happening, and when he did, his eyes widened, panic crossing his face briefly as he reached out to touch Liam's hand gently.

“Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, but the fact that you _are_ upset is proof that you don't want that to happen. You love Niall and you want him, so just tell him. You won't lose anything.”

Liam nodded, mostly to himself.

“I don't want to lose him again,” Liam said.

“Then don't,” Zayn answered simply. Again, Liam nodded, then leaned forward to hug Zayn.

“Whoa, okay,” Zayn said, patting Liam on the back awkwardly at first but then giving in and pulling him into a hug. “Sorry I had to bring the tough love out on you, bro.”

“Thank you,” Liam said.

***Niall***

Liam was asleep and snoring when he arrived back from partying that night. He'd had a good time, but he'd spent a majority of it wishing he was at the hotel in bed with Liam, so after kicking off his shoes and stripping down to his underwear, that was exactly where he placed himself. It was cold at first, but he nuzzled close to Liam, who didn't wake up, but moved his arm to hold Niall even closer and so that kept him warm. Niall was really going to miss his personal furnace when the tour was over, even in the summer.

Niall was cold again when he woke up, even with the extra blanket that Liam had apparently put over top of him, because the other dancer was gone. The room was silent, so Niall had a feeling that Liam wasn't around at all; something that was confirmed when he rolled over and saw a note on the nightstand.

_Ni,_

_Went for a work out. Be back soon. Happy Valentine's day!_

_X Liam X_

Smiling, Niall rubbed his eyes and went to get in the warm shower. He turned off his mind while he washed, not wanting to think about anything because he'd done a lot of analyzing the past couple of days about his and Liam's non-relationship and where it was heading. Liam had made a lot of progress during the past seven months, and Niall knew that he loved him, at least somewhat. He wouldn't have shown up in Ireland on New Year's Eve if he didn't, but it still felt like the two were stuck. Niall almost slipped up every single day and told Liam that he loved him, and then he would grow frustrated because why couldn't he just say it? Liam had been hurt by people in the past, but Niall didn't think he'd done anything to hurt him, so why was he paying the price?

He didn't blame Liam, of course. He'd known how Liam was right from the start, but that didn't stop it from being the hardest thing that Niall had to go through. Still, walking away would be harder. It was already painful enough knowing that, soon, the tour would be ending and the two of them would go on with their lives, probably with barely any time for each other. If they were boyfriends, they would surely find a way to still see each other often, but they weren't. Niall didn't know if he would be a priority in Liam's life after tour and he knew that he, too, shouldn't put work or other responsibilities on the back burner for a frozen non-relationship.

He hated it though.

After his shower, Niall turned on the television to try to distract himself. His stomach growled and he realized he hadn't eaten since before the show yesterday, but he would wait a little while and see if Liam wanted anything once he was done with his work out. He had to be almost done, as Niall had slept later than usual and Liam had probably gone to bed early.

Only a few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Grateful for a better distraction, because the TV wasn't working at all, Niall hopped off the bed and hurried to answer the door, shocked to see Liam there with a box of some kind of food in his hands as well as a bouquet of roses laying on top of the treats. Niall knew that his confusion had to be showing on his face.

“I forgot my key,” Liam explained. “Um...Happy Valentine's Day.”

It was said more like a question as he held out the food and the roses, smiling nervously.

“For you,” he spoke again when Niall was reluctant to take them. Immediately, a wide grin spread across the smaller dancer's face, even though he knew this didn't really change anything.

“Thank you,” he said, stepping back to let Liam enter. Once he did, Niall placed the food on the desk-they were heart shaped croissants-and then went to find something to put the flowers in. Liam stood, wringing his hands.

“This was sweet,” Niall said, popping up on his tip toes to kiss the other. “Thank you.”

“There's something else,” Liam said.

“Oh yeah?” Niall asked, one eyebrow quirked as he reached into the food box to help himself to some breakfast.

“Yeah,” Liam said. “Um...I remember that when I was drunk in Paris, Vegas, I said we could eat at the Eiffel Tower when we came here, but apparently eating at the Eiffel Tower on Valentine's Day is something that reservations are required for, so...”

Reaching into his back pocket, Liam pulled out what appeared to be two plane tickets and Niall paused, his mouth stuffed with croissant, looking questioningly from the man to the items in his hand and back again. Liam coughed, but it was more of a nervous tick than anything.

“I thought we could come back and eat there for your birthday,” he said, and Niall nearly choked on the breading still in his mouth.

“What?” he asked after he managed to swallow. Liam bounced on the balls of his feet.

“It's okay if you don't want to,” he said quickly. “I don't know where you'll be at that point. I'm sure you're going back to Ireland and all that, but, somehow, I want to be with you, even if we're not physically together all of the time. You got away from me at the zoo, and then at the dance academy; both times because I was stupid. I'm tired of being stupid. I want you, and I love you, and I want to be yours and for you to be mine.”

Niall almost asked Liam if this was real life or if someone had slipped something extremely strong into his drink the previous night, but he resisted, knowing how much it took from Liam to do this and that one wrong word could crush him and all of his confidence and…

Wait, did Liam just say the word that Niall thought he did?

“Sorry, I was listening, but can you repeat yourself, please?” he asked of the other, and Liam licked his lips.

“Um….which part?” he asked.

“Just the last part.”

“Um...that I want you, and I love you, and I want to be yours and for you to be mine? I practiced this speech a lot in my head.”

Liam giggled; another nervous tick, but Niall cut it off by literally dropping his croissant on the desk and wrapping his arms around Liam's neck, locking their lips together.

“I love you,” Liam said again when Niall pulled his mouth away, but kept his arms right where they were.

“I love you,” Niall replied, and then let out a breath. “Holy shit, that feels great to say. I love you, I love you.”

Liam giggled, but seemed less nervous that time, and he leaned down to kiss Niall again.

“I don't know where either of us will be in a few months either,” Niall said, “but I know that, on my birthday, we'll be back here, eating at the Eiffel Tower, and I hope that for the time leading up to it, we're at least somewhat close together. I actually don't think I'm moving back to Ireland. I've been thinking of finding a place in London. There will be more job opportunities there probably, and, of course, you.”

The smile that took place on Liam's face then was so wide that it caused a re-appearance of his eye dimple and Niall's heart fluttered.

“So can I call you my boyfriend?” Liam asked.

“I would feel so lucky if you did.”

“Okay...boyfriend,” Liam said.

“Fuck, I love you,” Niall sighed.

“I love you,” Liam replied.

“I have to make a run though,” Niall said, letting go of Liam and picking his key card up from the desk.

“What? Where are you going?” Liam asked, looking far too worried, so Niall kissed him.

“I didn't get you a Valentine's present because I thought it would make you uncomfortable and then you go and do this! Always trying to one-up me, I swear.”

Liam laughed, but wrapped his arms around Niall's waist, resting his chin on top of the other man's head.

“Don't go,” he said. “I don't need a present. I have you.”

“But while we were out last night, we passed a shop window and they had these boots that I think you would love...”

“I love you more,” Liam said. Niall moved to smooch his _boyfriend_ yet again.

“You're sweet,” he said, and then picked up his abandoned croissant. “Bite?”

Liam took a bite.

“Oh, it's good. I was worried.”

“They're delicious,” Niall agreed. “So, boyfriend, after we eat, what would you like to do today?”

“It's up to you, boyfriend,” Liam said, letting go of Niall to grab his own croissant and sit on the bed. “My idea for dinner was a bust, so...”

“Today was anything but a bust,” Niall said. “Want to go rate pizza places later? Ooh, or we can get spaghetti and have a Lady and the Tramp moment.”

Liam laughed, shaking his head.

“That's ridiculous, but anything you want to do,” he said. Niall hummed noncommittally, resting his head on Liam's shoulder as the two continued to eat. Niall knew that it didn't matter what they did that day. He would be happy no matter what, comforted for the first time that he would have Liam, if not forever than at least for a very long time.

But he was convinced that it would be forever.


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! It's Jamie's brother again. (I posted a chapter a little while ago and I honestly can't believe this story is still going on, but now is not the time for that.) So, Jamie got really sick very suddenly again this past weekend, which is why I am posting. I've been told that if he ever can't post/continue to write this, I'm in charge so...
> 
> Anyway, I know it's not quite Tuesday yet (where I am, at least), but no one ever complained about an early update, right? I decided to post this while I know I can because a lot is up in the air right now. With that being said, Jamie did write this chapter and I hope it's finished....If not, I have faith that he will get better and be able to fix it soon XD I can't promise when there will be another chapter up, but I know Jamie, and he will do everything in his power to try to get it up by sometime next week. 
> 
> Of course, go ahead and leave comments! I'll be looking at them every now and then just to try to answer any questions/concerns. (My name is Levi, if I didn't introduce myself before.) If I can't answer something, I will ask Jamie and get back with you as soon as he's coherent enough to answer for me. (He's on some real good stuff right now.)
> 
> Alright, I've rambled enough. Sorry if this is awkward for anyone and I hope you enjoy the chapter :)

***Harry***

Even though he was excited for the next phase of his and Louis's life together, the last show of the tour was more bittersweet than he could have imagined. Tears were falling off and on from various individuals all day as they hugged and repeatedly told each other how much they would miss them, insisting they had to stay in touch. Harry knew that, while some would keep that promise, many of them would never see one another again.

He didn't have too much to worry about, personally. He was moving in with Louis and would see him every day, at least for a while. Work would eventually take both of them away from each other at times, but they were committed to each other and everything would be fine. Harry was almost certain of it.

The show went flawlessly, despite frayed emotions. By that point, everyone was exhausted, but the knowledge that this was the final time they would all perform together fueled their adrenaline, creating a more energetic show than they had put on in a while. Or maybe that was just how it felt to Harry, but he didn't think so. The crowd was louder, responding positively to the energy being put off, and even Louis bounced around more than usual. Just like in the very first practice session, he strayed from his place in center stage to pull Harry away from the others for just a few moments and dance with him as piercing screams from the audience nearly broke their ear drums. Unlike the very first practice session, Harry didn't faint afterward and the smile that had been stuck on his face the entire night grew when he realized just how far he had come the past seven months in every aspect of his life.

Louis had been one of the few people who hadn't cried all day, but as he gave his final 'Thank you and good night,' his voice cracked a little and then he was in Harry's arms before the curtain even closed all the way.

“Hey, it's going to be okay,” Harry told him, rubbing his back soothingly and kissing the top of his head.

“I know,” Louis said, barely audible as he spoke into Harry's chest. Even still, he had every right to be emotional, so Harry stayed that way with him until Louis pulled away, smiling brightly and his eyes just a bit red as he went to hug everyone else. As he did, Harry looked around, trying to find one of his close friends, and, finally, he found Niall, glaring holes into the back of Jakob and Dylan's heads as they hugged Liam goodbye. Laughing to himself, Harry hurried over and gently spun Niall around by the shoulder.

“You know looks don't _actually_ kill, right?” he asked as he hugged the other man, speaking quietly enough so that no one else could hear over the noise.

“If they could, they would have been dead long ago,” Niall said flatly, hugging Harry back tightly.

“You sure can hold a grudge,” Harry commented.

“They almost killed Liam.”

Harry pulled away, attempting to keep his smile from growing too wide as he assured the other dancer that he understood.

After finishing their goodbyes to Liam, Jakob and Dylan said a quick farewell to Niall and Harry, shifting nervously on the balls of their feet, perfectly in synch with each other. To his honor, Niall forced the tiniest of smiles and wished them good luck in the rest of their lives and only rolled his eyes once they were gone.

“That was very mature of you,” Liam told his boyfriend, who was constantly getting on Niall to be nicer to the two because, “It was an accident and I'm just as much to blame,” but Niall hadn't said a word to the other dancers since they finally formally apologized to Liam a whole two weeks after he'd been released from the hospital and Niall told them that sorry wouldn't have brought him back if they'd let him die in the bathroom like they had been seemingly ready to do.

“That hurt my soul,” Niall told his boyfriend.

“Aw,” Liam cooed, squishing Niall's cheeks together and then kissing him. That made Niall smile, for real, and then Liam turned to Harry.

“We're still going to see each other, right?” he asked. “Double dates and such.”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely,” Harry assured him, moving forward to give his best friend a hug. “I'm really proud of you, Li.”

“You too,” Liam said, patting Harry on the back before giving him a quick squeeze and then letting go. Harry was alarmed to find that his eyes were suddenly rimmed with red.

“No!” he exclaimed, turning away. “You're not allowed to cry or I will!”

He heard Liam chuckle from behind him as Niall gave him a grin.

“We'll all still see each other,” the blonde said. “I'm not just saying that. We'll go on double dates, and maybe sometimes even let Zayn tag along like the fifth wheel he is.”

“That's what I like to hear!” Zayn, who always showed up at just the right moment, announced, bouncing over to hug the three.

 

Jay, Anne and Gemma all picked Harry and Louis up from the airport the next day and the group spent a couple minutes exchanging hugs and 'I've missed yous' before Jay drove the boys to Louis's place. Harry would soon be getting his things to bring over, but for the night, the two were much too exhausted.

“I love you,” Louis whispered that night as they laid in bed, and Harry knew that he thought he was asleep, so that only made him smile wider as he turned to look at the other, who jolted when he saw that his boyfriend was, in fact, awake.

“I love you,” Harry replied, finding Louis's lips in the dark and kissing him.

“Welcome home, darling,” Louis said, positioning himself even closer to Harry, who wrapped his arms around the man and gave another kiss to the top of his head.

The next day, Harry went to lunch with his family while Louis went to Jay's. Harry knew that the families would have nothing against all going together, but the boys had decided to spend time with them separately, as they wouldn't do that very often anymore and, even though his parents and sister loved Louis, Harry knew they hadn't expected him to never come home again when he left for tour.

“Don't take this the wrong way, darling, but you look great,” Anne told her son as he took a bite of his noodles at the restaurant.

“I feel great,” Harry told her, and all three of their faces lit up.

“We're so proud of you, son,” Des told the dancer.

“Thank you,” Harry said. “I'm sorry for everything I've put you through.”

“It's not your fault,” Anne was quick to tell him.

“I know, but that doesn't change the fact that it's hurt all of you.”

“We're just glad we're past all of that,” Anne said and Harry smiled while he nodded, not telling her that an eating disorder was something you never truly got passed. He was happy now, truly, but he still struggled with what he saw in the mirror and his brain still attempted to calculate the calories and fat content of everything he ate. The change was that he could bury those thoughts and fight the fear that went with it. He understood that what he saw in the mirror wasn't entirely accurate and that, as Louis had once said, he could have control in the fact that he didn't let those thoughts and fears win.

 

The first few days after tour were perfect. Both families helped Harry move his things into Louis's place and, even though Harry didn't end up keeping much besides the essentials such as clothes, the items that he decided he didn't want to part with, Louis found a place for, even putting some of his own things in storage until he could donate them somewhere.

As Harry had visualized, some mornings, he and Louis woke up together, or at least laid in bed until the other came to and then greeted them with a kiss, morning breath be damned. Others, Harry would wake up to breakfast being made, or wake up first and make them breakfast, sometimes even serving it in bed.

Their days were spent cuddling on the sofa and watching TV, doing boring but necessary things such as cleaning, or going out to shop, whether it be for groceries or for clothes that fit Harry, as he was larger-'healthier,' Louis said-than he had been at that point last year. Harry tried to keep a brave face, but he would be lying if he said that the shopping trip didn't bother him a little. They were just numbers and letters-the sizes didn't _really_ mean anything, but Harry couldn't help but to compare them to what he'd been in before. If he'd thought he was big then, what did that make him now?

Each time he would spend a little too long in the dressing room, staring in disgust at his reflection, Louis would knock softly on the door and say, “Stop it, love. Let me see.” So Harry would, and Louis would smile, tell him he was gorgeous, hot, beautiful, stunning or any word that meant the same thing, and then give him a kiss. It didn't really help, but Harry appreciated it anyway.

After about a week in, another worry formed in Harry's mind; finding a job. He was set, money wise, for the time being and he did his share with groceries and other bills, but at the moment, he had nothing coming in. He wasn't like Louis, who had royalties and such to earn him money during 'breaks.' All Harry currently was, was Louis's unemployed boyfriend and, when he thought about it, he realized that all the money he had was still technically Louis's.

When Louis discovered his distress, he helped Harry look around for potential jobs and, even though Harry knew he meant well, it wasn't doing anything to alleviate the worry because Harry would have to audition for these jobs and that thought terrified him just as much as not having a job did. He knew that Louis would love him no matter what, but if he auditioned and failed, that would only prove Harry's biggest fear to be true; that Louis had hired him because he felt sorry for him, or had somehow thought he was cute, or something along those lines; not because he was actually a good dancer.

As tended to happen when Harry was put under a substantial amount of pressure (even if the pressure only came from himself), he found himself losing his appetite. He rarely grew hungry and, when he did, he still found it difficult to eat anything, but he managed, even when he gagged on the food the entire time, because he couldn't let people down. His parents were proud, and Louis and Liam and Jackson, that fan that had sent him and Louis letters. Harry couldn't let them down.

The first time Harry got sick on dinner wasn't his fault. Or, rather, he hadn't made himself do it, but his anxiety had been higher than it had been even recently the entire day, probably brought on by his mom asking if he had any ideas on what he was going to do next. Harry knew that she hadn't meant to upset him, and it shouldn't have bothered him at all, but it did because he had no idea what he was going to do next and he didn't need that reminder.

Dinner even tasted weird that night, and Harry knew that it wasn't the actual food. He and Louis had cooked it together and Louis seemed to find it good, but everything from the flavor to the texture was disgusting to Harry and he couldn't stop the first few bites from coming back up. He'd been lucky to even make it to the bathroom, so he didn't have time to lock the door, and even though he hadn't shoved his fingers down his throat, he still felt shame when Louis rushed in to rub his back.

“What's wrong, love?” the singer asked when Harry had finished and straightened; Louis feeling Harry's forehead for a fever that wasn't there.

“I don't know,” Harry lied. “I've been feeling off all day.”

The last part wasn't a lie, at least.

“Babe, you should have said something,” Louis said, his eyes wide with worry, so Harry smiled weakly in an attempt to comfort him.

“I'm sure I'm just coming down with something,” he said as he moved passed Louis to get to the sink, wash his hands and rinse his mouth out. After that, he added, “I'll sleep in the spare bedroom tonight in case there's a chance that I can save you from getting it.”

The thought of sleeping in the spare bedroom hurt him, because all he wanted was to be wrapped closely in Louis's arms and breathe in his familiar, comforting scent that always reminded him of happiness when he couldn't actually feel it, but he needed Louis to believe that this was the flu or something and, if he had been physically sick, he would do everything he could to ensure that Louis remained healthy.

“Don't be silly,” Louis said, and Harry knew that he'd been scared for nothing. Of course Louis wouldn't let him sleep in the other room. “Go up to our bed, love. I'll bring you juice in a second.”

Harry obeyed, and when Louis brought him his juice, as promised, Harry took one sip and grimaced. _Too sugary._

“Too soon?” Louis asked. Harry nodded, placing the cup on the nightstand.

“Thank you, though,” he said.

“I'm sorry you're sick,” Louis said, kissing Harry's forehead, laying down next to him and rubbing his boyfriend's arms. Harry closed his eyes, though knew he wouldn't fall asleep anytime soon. He didn't tell Louis that he was sorry that he was sick too, just not in the way Louis thought he was. He didn't tell him that he was sorry that he would never truly get better, no matter how much love or medication he received.

***Liam***

Once Niall had told Liam of his decision to move to London and the two had become boyfriends, things started moving pretty quickly. Or, rather, they were catching up to where they would have been, had they been calling each other boyfriends the entire time. Either way, the two had decided to move in together.

Of course, they had to still find a place and get everything situated and so, for the time being, both of them were staying with Liam's family.

Though everyone had been excited when Liam and Niall had become official, Karen, Geoff, Nicola and Ruth had been the biggest supporters; his sisters calling to literally just scream in the phone after seeing the Facebook notification.

Liam's bed at home wasn't much bigger than Niall's, and they would buy a new one when it was time to move, but for the time being, they were fine huddling together in the small one. They'd had sex in a limo, so the nearly kid-sized bed was nothing of a challenge.

Every now and then, Liam would find himself growing inexplicably afraid, but it never lasted long. He supposed he was worried about his future with Niall, and if there was one or if Niall would suddenly decide he didn't want Liam anymore, but the dancer realized that these fears were probably a natural part of most relationships and, for the time being, Niall truly loved him. He couldn't actually see that love fading, and he knew that his love for Niall never would.

***Niall***

Niall fit into Liam's family so well that he sometimes forgot that he had just met them all recently. He helped Liam's aunt, or his mother, as he was now calling her, in the kitchen, watched sports with his dad and teased his sisters just like they teased him. They all exchanged hugs every night before going to sleep and the Paynes assured them that they could stay with them as long as they needed.

Still, as much as Niall liked them and even with how grateful he was for all of their help and support, he was ecstatic when he and Liam signed their apartment agreement. It had taken them two weeks to find the perfect place, but they finally did in a medium-sized complex overlooking the city.

They couldn't move into the place for another two weeks after they signed their lease, but the time went fast, as they were busy shopping. Niall's family even came down for a few days to help them, and they bought them their very first couch, not caring if the men could afford it on their own. Niall never thought he would get so sentimental over a couch, but as he had sat on it to test it out, and Liam sat down next to him, putting his arm around him, he fell in love, not only with the piece of furniture, but even more so with Liam.

As pathetic as he felt, Niall was quite emotional on moving day. It all came from good things because he was _actually_ moving in with the love of his life to begin a life together, but Liam didn't tear up while helping Greg carry their bed in like Niall did watching them. Luckily, he held himself together well and no one could see his inner struggle.

It was a busy day, so his emotional instability didn't last long. He was too distracted with unpacking dishes and working with the women to make sure the place was adequately decorated. He wasn't typically needed to help with the big pieces of furniture so, even though he would have been perfectly capable of helping the other guys, he was also content to sit back and watch Liam's muscles flex underneath his t-shirt as he carried in their new couch, table, flat screen TV, et cetera.

Even though he'd had a fairly easy day, both Niall and Liam were exhausted by that night; too tired to even make love, which was part of their nightly routine. They'd tried, sloppily kissing each other in bed once both of their families had left and they had taken a shower, but eventually, both simultaneously came to the conclusion that nothing would be happening that night and Liam let out a sigh as he collapsed on top of the other. His eyes heavy, Niall kissed the top of his head as he ran his fingernails gently up and down his boyfriend's back.

“Love you,” he mumbled.

“Love you,” Liam returned before they both passed out.

When Niall woke the next morning, they were still in the same position, and even though Niall had a crick in his neck and knew he would be sore when Liam got up off of him, he sighed happily, kissed the top of Liam's head and kept laying there until Liam woke nearly thirty minutes later.

The two had yet to go to the grocery, so for breakfast they ate a couple leftover doughnuts from their move the previous day as they searched the internet for potential jobs. Though they didn't have to immediately worry, the two had never been truly on their own before and they wanted to make sure that they wouldn't feel overwhelmed when the bills started piling in. Both of them had already gotten calls wanting them to audition for certain tours, but they never got the same call and, even though Niall was sure it would come down to it eventually, he and Liam didn't want to leave each other so soon.

“Maybe I'll apply for that position,” Niall commented, pointing to an ad asking for a dance instructor at a local minor academy.

“Is that what you want to do?” Liam asked, sounding surprised, but not un-supportive as he sipped his coffee and stared at Niall.

“I would get to come home to you every night,” Niall said with a smile.

“Yeah, but I want you to be happy with your job too,” Liam told him.

“It's something I've thought about for a little while now-teaching-and I think I'll like it,” Niall assured him. “The tour with Louis was amazing, and I'm not saying I would never want to do another one, but for now, I think I want a semi-normal job where I can have a stable home life as well. Yeah, I think I want to apply.”

“You should then,” Liam said, a big smile on his face. “Bet you'll get it.”

“Maybe,” Niall said, smiling right back. “They would have to make sure I can get days off to visit you if you're away though.”

“I think I want to keep working on my EP for now, release that and see how it goes,” Liam admitted and Niall's smile grew as he straightened his body excitedly.

“Really?!”

“Yeah.”

“I think you'll be happy doing that,” Niall told him, and he could almost feel their futures falling into place. Liam nodded.

“I think I will too,” he said. “And then, if I do well enough to have my own tour, you can take a break from your teaching job and be one of my dancers, but only if you want to.”

“I would love to,” Niall assured him, giving him a kiss.

“I feel really good about everything,” Liam said. “I know everything is really uncertain right now, but your optimism must be rubbing off on me because I really think we'll make it to where we want to be, individually and together.”

“I'm not saying it's always going to be easy, but we'll make it,” Niall told him. He wasn't so naive as to think he could control the future, but he would do everything in his power to make sure that Liam was safe and happy, and he knew that Liam would do the same for him, so, really, he didn't see how they could fail.

“Thanks for waiting for me to come around, babe,” Liam said, pulling Niall from his own chair and onto his lap.

“Don't think I ever had a choice,” Niall said. “Fate and all that.”

“Fate,” Liam said, and gave a huff of a laugh, but then said, “Maybe you're right.”

“I'm always right.”

“Oh. Uh-huh, sure.”

“Always, always.”

“You're always cute,” Liam told him.

“Yep. Always cute and always right.”

“What did I get myself into?” Liam asked rhetorically, kissing the back of Niall's neck. Niall decided to answer anyway.

“My heart.”

Liam snorted.

“I love you, cheese ball.”

“And I love you.”

Even though the two had another busy day ahead of them, they were content to stay right there for a while, Liam swiveling in his bar stool with Niall still in his lap, humming as he sipped his coffee and Niall leaned back against him, feeling the vibrations of his chest when he hummed.

 


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By some miracle, this is being posted on time. I hope it's alright XD

***Louis***

Harry wasn't skipping meals, as far as Louis knew, but, still, he was getting thinner. Louis had gotten rid of his scale, so he couldn't say for sure if Harry was losing weight or not, but the clothes they had bought mere weeks ago that had fit perfectly at the time were loose. Harry told him that he was simply losing muscle, as he didn't get much exercise now that tour was over, and while that was true, it didn't comfort Louis.

“Hey, Lou, how are you?” Liam asked politely when Louis entered the studio nearly fifteen minutes late on one of their scheduled session days. Louis felt bad because he'd completely forgotten that they even had a session until later in the morning. In his opinion, Liam had every right to be mad at him, but he didn't appear so.

“I'm okay. Sorry I'm late,” Louis apologized quickly, slipping off his jacket and sitting in the chair next to his friend, who stared him down blankly for an uncomfortable amount of time.

“Something is wrong,” he finally noted.

“I was just rushing to get here and traffic was awful,” Louis claimed. Liam shook his head slightly, almost as if he didn't actually mean to.

“How is Harry?” he asked. Louis sighed.

“I don't know,” he answered honestly. “Anyway, what do you want to work on today?”

“What's wrong with Harry?”

At the other man's question, a ball settled itself in Louis's throat, but he swallowed and blinked rapidly, keeping himself together.

“His clothes are getting big on him and I don't think he's skipping meals or purging, and I've paid attention to all of the tricks he said that he would use. I don't see him hiding his food or anything, but I feel like he's losing weight, and not just muscle, as he claims. He's self-conscious again. Well, he's always self-conscious, but it's worse. He's back to not letting me touch his waist and stays half dressed during...Um, well, you get it.”

“Yeah,” Liam said, nodding again and not looking at all affected that Louis shared such an intimate detail. Of course, it was Liam. “Maybe you should start bringing him to the studio,” the dancer and future singer suggested. “He's good when you're there, but we've been in the studio a lot so who knows what he does while you're gone?”

Louis mentally slapped himself, feeling as if Liam had just unlocked the mystery that Louis should have gotten right from the start. Even though Louis was still home a lot more than at the studio, he would sometimes be gone for a meal or two, and even one skipped meal every other day would be enough for someone like Harry to lose weight. Plus, if he left right after breakfast or lunch, as he often did, Harry could very likely get rid of the food he'd eaten.

“Wow,” Louis said, resting his elbows on his knees and folding his hands together. “I'm an idiot.”

“You're not,” Liam kindly assured him. “I just know how an addict's mind works. No matter what the addiction, they all work kind of the same way.”

“No, I am an idiot,” Louis disagreed. “The answer to all of my questions was so simple, but I guess I was blinded by hope and faith that he wouldn't do that again; that he was done keeping secrets.”

“That's normal,” Liam said gently. “Don't beat yourself up over it. That's not going to help anything. Has Harry been talking to anyone professionally?”

“No,” Louis sighed. “Dr. King gave him a list of psychologists who are highly rated in dealing with problems such as his, but since he felt better, Harry didn't think he needed them and because he was acting better, I didn't push it. I'm such a fucking idiot.”

“Stop,” Liam said, squeezing Louis's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. Louis was past the point of being comforted, but he appreciated the gesture. “Try to get him to reconsider and bring him to the studio sometimes. We don't even have to be here as often as we are. If we can pull him back from where he was last time, we can do it again.”

Louis thanked Liam for the talk, assured him that he would suggest seeing a mental health doctor as soon as he got home that night and then the two got busy with their work. It didn't last long, and Louis again felt bad because Liam claimed he wasn't as into it that day, but he knew he had only been saying that so that Louis would get home to Harry. Still, Louis didn't argue because with his worry, he hadn't been able to give Liam and his nearly finished EP all of the attention they deserved.

“Hey, you're home early,” Harry commented when Louis returned and joined him on the couch to watch some film that looked vaguely familiar to the singer, but which he couldn't quite place at the moment.

“Mhm,” he hummed, snuggling against his boyfriend, who wrapped him up in his arms and kissed the top of his forehead. Louis almost smiled because this was his happy place, but his nerves prevented it. He didn't know how to go about suggesting that Harry go to a doctor because he didn't want to say it flat out when he had no proof that Harry had been doing anything harmful to himself, but he felt as if every second he wasted was detrimental.

When his own stomach growled, he was finally met with opportunity.

“I'm hungry,” he announced, sitting up. Harry's arms slid off of him and suddenly Louis wanted to tell him never mind and cuddle right up to him again, but he didn't.

“I can make you something,” Harry offered. “What would you like?”

“I don't know. What sounds good to you?”

“I'm not hungry yet.”

The words were innocent, but they still hurt Louis because coming from Harry, they could have meant an array of things.

“It's past lunch time,” Louis said weakly, his palms sweating.

“I ate lunch a bit before you got home.”

“Oh. What did you have?”

Immediately, Harry's soft face contorted to one of anger and Louis flinched back a little even though he knew that Harry's anger only came from feeling like he was being cornered-and because he knew that he had something to hide.

“Why does it matter?” he snapped.

“Just wondering in case it sounded good,” Louis said, his voice growing softer with each sentence, and he hated it.

“Oh,” Harry said, his facial muscles smoothing out again. “Sorry, babe. I just...I had a grilled cheese sandwich and some crisps.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Louis said, alarming himself when a tear slid down his cheek because he hadn't been aware he was that close to outwardly breaking. Harry looked shocked as well, and a bit angry again.

“Why are you crying?” he asked, none too gently.

“I'm scared,” Louis told him.

“Did you actually think I was going to hurt you or something?” Harry asked, rising to his feet and crossing his arms. The look on his face would have frightened Louis if the other would have had a single violent bone in his body, but he didn't.

“No,” Louis said, wiping away a couple new tears and silently cursing at himself. He was so weak; no wonder it was easy for Harry to relapse around him. “I'm not scared for me.”

“What the hell are you on about?”

“You're acting different, Harry, and I know you know it.”

“How am I acting different?”

“You look at food like it's your enemy again, and I'm not allowed to see you naked, or touch you in certain places, and you're getting thinner-not just losing muscle but actually getting thinner-and you won't tell me the truth about it.”

“Wow,” Harry said after a brief pause in which he stared at Louis in disapproval. “You certainly are dramatic, aren't you? News flash, Louis, I've always been like this. I'm sorry that sometimes it's more noticeable than others, but just because I don't try to hide it all of the time doesn't mean I'm on my death bed. I know you can't understand, but I will never be normal mentally, okay? Sorry that that 'scares' you or whatever, but physically, I'm fine, so just let me be and let me get through this alone, okay?”

“You can't get through this alone. You _aren't_ alone,” Louis said, standing as well, but staying at the opposite end of the couch. He didn't like this distance between them, metaphorically or otherwise, but he was afraid that if he tried to get closer, then Harry would move even farther. “I'm here to try to help you.”

“I know you are, but you can't help me, Lou,” Harry said flatly. Louis felt his own lip tremble and bit down for a few moments until he had it somewhat under control.

“Okay, then talk to someone who can.”

“I don't need to talk to anyone! I'm fine!”

“That's what you said last time!”

“I'm not how I was last time!”

“Maybe not yet, but that's where it's heading!”

“Thanks for having faith in me, Lou,” Harry said sarcastically before turning on his heel and heading upstairs.

“Babe, I do-” Louis began, beginning to chase after him, but he was stopped with a chilly,

“Leave me the fuck alone, Louis.”

Louis probably should have refused; he should have chased after Harry and did everything he could to get him to see his side of things, but the cold, unloving tone of Harry's voice stopped him in his tracks and he stood in the middle of the living room, trying to catch his breath, as he listened to Harry's footsteps descend up the stairs and then a door close with more force than was necessary.

Eventually, Louis was able to come back to himself enough to move to the couch again, but all he could do then was stare blankly at the TV, not registering anything from the visuals to the noise, until his stomach growled again minutes later. It was then that Louis remembered that he'd been hungry, but he suddenly didn't feel like eating anymore so he sat there for minutes more until he decided to make some tea.

The tears had stopped, but Louis was still sniffling as he got his drink ready and he wasn't all mentally present yet, so when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his middle, he jumped.

“Sorry,” Harry whispered, kissing the side of Louis's head. “I'm sorry I startled you and I'm sorry I yelled at you and I'm just sorry.”

That was all it took to get Louis's tears going again and he set his tea cup on the counter, turning around in Harry's arms to be held against the man's chest as he let himself cry. Harry was sniffling himself and when Louis finally turned away, he saw that his boyfriend's eyes were red as well.

“I didn't want to make you mad,” Louis said.

“I know. What you said shouldn't have made me mad,” Harry told him. “It's me I'm mad at, not you. It just came out that way and I'm sorry. I'll talk to someone if you want me to.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Do you still have that list that Dr. King gave me?”

Louis nodded.

“It's upstairs in my desk.”

“Okay. I'll call soon, but for now, how about I make us both a couple of grilled cheeses, yeah?”

Louis still hadn't gotten his appetite back, but if Harry could bring himself to eat, then he sure could, so he nodded and sat on the counter, sipping his tea while he watched Harry cook. He was in his happy place, though it wasn't quite so cheery now that he realized his happy place would always be Harry's Hell.

***Niall***

After weeks of begging, Liam finally let Niall come to the studio with him. Niall knew it wasn't that his boyfriend didn't want him there, but the studio was where he went to express himself; something that he still often struggled with. As much as he trusted Niall, Liam still didn't want him knowing every single thought and feeling he had, which was fine. Most people liked to keep some things private.

As Niall watched Liam record what he and Louis both thought would be the last song on his EP, he grew completely convinced that this was what the man was supposed to be doing. Liam was a great dancer and he did have a passion for it, but it wasn't anything like singing. He didn't put his entire body, mind and soul into the art of dancing, but with his music, it appeared that he laid everything on the line and it was entrancing. Niall thought it would have been the same for anyone watching Liam, not just him, and that seemed to be somewhat confirmed by the way Louis stared at him while he sang, fully concentrated and barely blinking.

“Was that any good at all?” Liam questioned after every verse, and as he exited the recording booth for what would probably be the last time in a while, Niall stood and hurried over to pull him into a tight embrace.

“Like all of the other times, that was great,” he said. “You're going to be so huge when this is released.”

“I'm not sure about all that.”

“I am. I reckon in the next year or so you'll be on your own tour.”

“Would you still consider leaving your teacher position to be my dancer?”

“Of course I will.”

Niall had interviewed and auditioned for the open spot at the local dance academy only a few days earlier and had gotten the call that morning that he was hired. He wouldn't be starting until summer, but that was okay. Now that Liam was done recording all he needed to, the majority of the work was now up to the producer until close to release time. The pair would have plenty of time to simply be together. It would be a good opportunity to get that dog that Liam had always wanted, Niall noted silently.

“I'm more excited to hear the finished product of this than I ever am my own stuff,” Louis commented, standing and giving Liam a friendly hug as soon as Niall let go of him.

“Thanks for everything, Lou,” Liam said.

“Of course,” Louis said with a smile that fell slightly flat. “Now, not to run off, but I should be getting home.”

“Yeah, I understand,” Liam assured him. “How is Harry?”

“About the same. I did mention taking him to talk to someone, but that led to a fight. Afterward, he said he would make an appointment with a therapist, but he wasn't able to get in until next week.”

“Wait, what's going on with Harry?” Niall asked, feeling his forehead crease with worry.

“He's been having self-esteem issues again,” Louis explained. “He's stressed over not having a job, but doesn't have the confidence to try to find one and his anxiety is coming out through his eating habits.”

“How bad?”

Louis shrugged.

“I don't know. That's terrible, but he goes through highs and lows. Sometimes it will be like he's recovering and then others, it's like he's headed towards a full blown relapse. Of course, he says he's fine and if I push too much, it leads to a fight and he'll be locked in the room for an hour.”

Liam and Niall exchanged worried glances that they hoped Louis didn't catch.

“We all need to go out,” Liam suggested. “Maybe that will help get his mind off things for a bit.”

Niall felt as if Liam had an ulterior motive; to analyze Harry for himself, but Niall couldn't blame him because he knew that he would be doing the same thing.

“Yeah, Harry really doesn't get out much,” Louis said. “I'm sure he'd love to see you both again. I'll ask him tonight about a double date.”

“Great,” Liam said with a smile that also fell somewhat short. “Just let us know when and where.”

 

The 'where' ended up being at Louis and Harry's house because, as the singer told them, Harry really wanted to see them all again, but wasn't quite in the mood for going out. He would rather host a dinner, he'd said, and so the next night, that was what they let him do.

Niall shouldn't have been alarmed when Harry answered the door. He wasn't near a walking skeleton, like he had been when Niall had met him, but his sharp cheekbones were sharper than they had been in a while, accentuated more by the messy bun that the man had his hair styled into. Though it was quite warm outside, Harry had on a black, long-sleeved shirt with loose black jeans. It was no secret that black was slimming, but still, the weight loss was noticeable, and Harry's eyes looked tired. In fact, Niall felt as if there might be bags underneath them, well hidden by make-up.

“Hey! How are you two?” Harry asked, a wide, though not completely genuine, smile on his face as he pulled each of his friends inside and gave them hugs before closing the door.

“Good,” Liam answered while Niall said, 'wonderful.' The couple smiled at each other and Harry studied them fondly for a moment before turning on his heel.

“Dinner is almost ready. Sorry about the smell. I completely forgot that I had brownies in the oven and they burned. I lit candles, but it hasn't helped much.”

“I didn't notice until you said anything,” Niall assured him truthfully. Harry turned to give another smile over his shoulder and then the trio entered the dining room. The table was already set and Harry told them to sit where they liked and that he would be back; he was just going to help Louis bring the rest of the food out.

When Harry was out of eyesight, Liam and Niall glanced at each other, trying to communicate silently, but this was one of the rare times that Niall had absolutely no idea what his love was trying to convey. He guessed Liam couldn't figure him out either because he shrugged and focused on tracing the rim of his empty glass instead.

“Don't worry,” Harry spoke as he entered the room again, a salad bowl in his hands. “We have champagne to fill that with.”

“You know you didn't have to get this fancy for just us?” Niall teased and Harry gave another smile. Like the other two, though, it seemed off; almost as if Niall and Liam were new acquaintances instead of good friends who had toured the world together.

“The champagne was a gift from my mum when we got home back in February and we've been looking for an excuse to pop it.”

“You need an excuse?” Liam asked. Harry laughed, forcibly.

“Don't let him fool you,” Louis spoke as he appeared behind Harry carrying bread sticks and a bottle of champagne. “There was a bottle of wine that we polished off on one of the first few nights we returned.”

“And there's plenty more liquor stored somewhere around here, so drink up,” Harry said. “Or, you know, don't.”

Harry winked at Liam, who smiled and then jumped as Louis popped the cork off the champagne without warning.

During dinner, the conversation never faltered and there were plenty of laughs to accompany it, but none of it was completely genuine. Harry, who ate salad with a small side of lasagna (Niall swore it was three bites), seemed in his own world, laughing a beat or two too late when something funny was said and taking a good moment to speak up when the conversation fell on him. In turn, Louis's smile got dimmer and dimmer the longer the night went on and Niall left, feeling unsettled, two-and-a-half hours later.

When he and Liam got home, Niall had his boyfriend pinned against the door in an instant, just leaning himself against the man and holding him tightly by the waist as he buried his face into his chest.

“You okay?” Liam asked, worry evident in his voice as he squeezed Niall against him even more before soothingly rubbing his back.

“I'm so proud of you, Li,” Niall said into the man's shirt. He hoped his words were clear. “I don't feel like I say that enough, but I am, and you continue to amaze me every day.”

“Okay...um...thanks, but how? Why?”

“I forget sometimes how easy it would be for you to fall back to alcohol or sex or anything else that always made you feel better when you were stressed. A lot has happened recently. The tour ended, we're both working on different projects, we moved...It's all been great, don't get me wrong, but I know it's been stressful too and I know you have to still have those urges sometimes, but you never act on them.”

“Well, I mean, technically, I do act on the sex urge. I have a boyfriend who's always up for the task, so I've never really had to fight that. As for the alcohol...Yeah, it's harder sometimes than others, but then I just have sex with you an extra time or two that day.”

Niall laughed, pulling away from Liam just enough to give him a kiss.

“I'm still proud of you, regardless.”

“I'm proud of you too,” Liam said.

“What for?” Niall questioned.

“One go with you is better than three tequila shots,” Liam told him, smacking him on the bum gently, but meaningfully as an ornery smirk took place on his face. Niall felt himself start to grin and fought to keep the look on his own face at least slightly sultry.

“Come to think of it, you do look slightly overwhelmed,” he lied, massaging the other man's shoulders. “Want to prove that statement to me?”

Liam's smirk grew and instead of verbally replying, he simply nodded to the bedroom. Letting the sultry look slide off his face, Niall gave a full smile and turned, leading Liam away by the hand.

Niall remembered, back when he and Liam had just been reunited for the second time at Louis's pre-tour party, how the other man had asked him if he thought love could save a person. He'd been speaking in regards to Harry and Louis at the time, but Niall thought now that he knew the answer was yes, at least for the two of them. No matter how much of an optimist, Niall wasn't naive. Love couldn't save everyone, but, as he'd guessed back then, it could bring out the strength in a person to help them save themselves.

***Harry***

Less than a week later, Harry got the call that should have been the answer to all of his unsent prayers. He had a job offer. It was short term; he would simply be filling in for an injured back up dancer during three of another pop singer's shows, but still, it was something.

When Louis found out, he screamed. When he discovered the singer Harry would be performing for, should he accept, was Britney Spears, he screamed even louder and then squished Harry's cheeks together so excitedly that it was almost painful, though his bleeding ear drums probably distracted from the mild discomfort of his face.

“Harry, that's amazing!” Louis exclaimed, his pupils dilated almost as if he were on drugs. “You have to do it! I mean, you don't _have_ to do it, but you totally should! It would be so fun, and it's a great opportunity.”

“I didn't even audition for it, Lou,” Harry said. “They only called me because I'm a dancer and I'm dating you.”

“That's not true,” Louis told him as if he were dumb to suggest such a thing. “Talent scouts come to concerts all the time. I'm sure someone from her team saw a show and took your name for future use.”

“Yeah, sure,” the dancer said sarcastically. Louis rolled his eyes.

“I'm not making your decision for you,” he said. “But what've you got to lose, love?”

“Um, my pride?”

“But you won't. You're an amazing dancer.”

“Love is blind, dear.”

“Not true. You still see that I can't dance.”

Harry paused and then nodded, knowing he had to give that one to him.

“Harry...Britney Spears!”

“Do you just want me to do this so you can meet Britney?” Harry asked, half teasing.

“Maybe,” Louis said with a wink but then added quickly, “No. I think it's the best thing for you right now, but I could be wrong. Do what you want to do, love.”

The truth was, Harry didn't really want to do the shows. They were all in Vegas (and did Britney Spears even perform anywhere else anymore?) and Louis assured that he would come with him, but Harry wasn't confident on his ability to keep up with the other dancers. He didn't want to make a fool of himself and he didn't want to waste Louis's time and money traveling, only to fail. He didn't want to see the disappointment on everyone's faces when he inevitably failed, but he knew they would be disappointed if he didn't try too, so in the end, he decided to give it a go. Maybe if he proved himself right once and for all, he wouldn't be pressured to do these things anymore.

By the time Harry got to Vegas, he had three weeks to learn all of the dance routines, which really wasn't that hard. He didn't have much going for him, but he had a good memory and his body seemed to have a mind of its own while dancing. Even if he was checked out mentally, his body knew what to do after just a few practices. It rarely looked good doing it, but it knew what it was _supposed_ to be doing, nonetheless.

Louis had been ecstatic when Harry had accepted the offer, of course, but his happiness dwindled as the three weeks passed and Harry spent all of his time rehearsing or exercising.

“These shows aren't going to be like yours, babe,” Harry tried to explain. “Yours are fun and relaxed. This is intense...like a Broadway show.”

Harry and Louis had been placed in a suite that felt almost as much like home as their own place did, but even though Harry had easy access to a scale, he resisted weighing himself. He didn't need to. The numbers didn't matter anymore. What mattered was how his costumes fit and how light his body felt twirling around the stage.

Jay, as well as Harry's family, had been planning on flying to Vegas to watch him perform at the single show that wasn't yet sold out (Louis had offered to buy them all tickets) but Harry had convinced them to change their minds. He was going to be nervous enough with Louis there watching him fail. He didn't need anyone else.

On the day of the first show, he received many 'good luck' texts, and he was so appreciative, though he knew that luck couldn't save him. What was going to happen would happen and he honestly didn't know why he was still holding on to the slight hope that it would go well because when all was said and done, it didn't go well at all.

“Baby, you did so great! I knew you were amazing, but that was something else entirely! You've so been holding out on….Hey, what's wrong?”

Harry collapsed in Louis's arms, both physically and emotionally drained, as soon as he found him back stage after the first show of his three had ended.

“I did awful,” Harry mumbled, and he doubted if Louis heard him with all of the other noise surrounding them, but he found himself being dragged to a dressing room; empty at the moment.

“I wish I knew how I could get you to see that I'm not lying to you when I tell you how amazing you are,” Louis said, tears prickling at his eyes and making guilt form in Harry's chest and stomach. Banking on the hope that he hadn't heard him a moment ago when he'd degraded his own performance, Harry said,

“Sorry, babe, I'm just tired. I didn't mean to get all emotional. That was so much fun! Thank you for convincing me to do it.”

Harry leaned down to kiss Louis, who frowned as he studied his face. The dancer put on his best smile and took his boyfriend's hand.

“Let's go see what the others are up to. Maybe you'll get to party with Britney, yeah?”

As it turned out, they did get to go out with the pop singer and her back up dancers that night and Harry made sure to talk a lot and laugh even more. He accepted all of the compliments he received on how well he supposedly did with grace and took pictures with whoever requested one, all the while wondering how it wasn't obvious to them how much Harry didn't belong. He didn't belong with all of the fit, talented super stars and he didn't belong in the dream he'd somehow gotten lucky enough to live in anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, but did you expect everything to be better that easily? ;) (Not that it was actually that 'easy' but...you know...)
> 
> Anyway, only a few more chapters to go, and there will be a lot happening. The ending will go much faster than the beginning :) 
> 
> Thanks for all of the continued support! I should be able to have the next chapter up by next Tuesday, but I'm not making any promises except to try my best!


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided for the last few chapters, to post them as soon as I'm finished with them, so here you go!

***Louis***

“You really need to talk to someone, babe.”

“It's not my fault I had to cancel my appointment. I had to go to Vegas, which is something _you_ wanted me to do.”

“No, I know,” Louis said, keeping his voice calm instead of getting defensive, like Harry was. He bumped Harry's foot with his own and scooted ever so slightly closer to him on the couch. In turn, Harry crossed his arms tight over his chest. Louis wasn't even sure if he knew he was doing it. “I'm not saying it was your fault, but we've been home for a couple weeks now and I think you should call and get in again.”

“I don't know, Lou,” Harry replied offhandedly, staring at the TV instead of looking at his boyfriend despite the fact that only a tissue commercial was playing at that moment. “I feel fine.”

“You know you're not fine, Harry.”

“Oh, do I now?”

Louis saw one of Harry's eyebrows quirk up while he sucked in his cheeks and thinned his lips-his true expression of anger-but he swallowed and continued.

“I think, deep down, you do,” he said. “I don't know if you can see that your clothes fit even worse than they did a week ago now, but can't you feel that you've been distant? Any conversation is a struggle now and we haven't had sex in over a week, which wouldn't be a problem if it didn't mean there was something wrong.”

“Sorry, I didn't know that not wanting to have sex all of the time like rabbits meant that there was something wrong with me,” Harry snapped.

“It doesn't, but it's not that you don't want to. You don't want me to see you. You don't want me to touch you. So either you're upset with me or there's something bothering you with yourself.”

“I'm not upset with you yet, but I will be soon if you keep pretending to know exactly what I'm thinking.”

“I wouldn't have to guess what you're thinking if you would just tell me, love.”

“Seriously, Lou, if you don't want to have another fight, please just be quiet.”

Louis sighed, feeling as if he shouldn't let Harry shut him down that easily, but he knew that if he pressed on, then it really would lead to a fight and Harry would lock himself in the bedroom again, like had happened more times than the singer would care to think about recently. That wouldn't accomplish anything more than simply dropping the subject, so after letting out another sigh, Louis leaned over to kiss Harry's shoulder before resting his head on it.

“Okay, but you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“Yes, Louis, I know.”

“Good.”

Even though Louis had technically failed in his goal of getting Harry to make an appointment with a therapist, the dancer did eat a little more that night at dinner and struggled to make conversation, seeming uncomfortable with any amount of silence, so he hoped that he'd gotten through to his boyfriend at least a little bit.

  


'Perfectly Perfect' was a pretty old song by that point, but somehow, it still had some steam, and Dean urged Louis to make a video for it, starring Harry, of course. Louis was reluctant to even ask his boyfriend, and expected him to decline when he did, but to his surprise, Harry agreed without a moment's hesitation, only getting angry when Louis told him for the second time that he didn't have to if he didn't want to.

“I wouldn't have agreed in the first place if I didn't want to, would I have?” Harry had asked, and so Louis dropped the subject, though he thought that, yes, Harry would have agreed if he thought it was what Louis wanted.

  


The concept of the music video was played out much like Harry and Louis's relationship had been; starting out with Harry doing dances alone in the studio and then stopping when he got a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Louis didn't like it, because Harry picking himself apart in the mirror was too real, but the script had been set before he and Harry had even reached the studio and Harry had genuinely seemed to like it.

Eventually, Louis would enter the room where Harry was picking himself apart and set him down, facing away from the mirrors, to sing to him. By the time they got to the second verse, the scene would cut to them doing different every day activities, sometimes with Harry being happy and other times hinting that he was just pretending. It felt wrong, likely because it was actually right, and Louis wanted to cancel the project at multiple points, but he pushed through. It didn't matter when he got a little emotional. The director told him it was a 'nice touch,' apparently thinking he was simply putting on an act. Harry seemed to think the same thing, or he just didn't care, because whenever the cameras stopped rolling, he would stop looking in Louis's eyes and hurry off for a drink of water.

  


“I think the video will turn out nicely,” Harry commented as Dean drove the pair home.

“Mhm,” Louis mumbled, staring out the car window and messing nervously with the sleeves of his jacket.

“Is something wrong?” Harry finally asked, but Louis had long lost the energy to try to explain himself.

“It will only start a fight,” he said instead, and Harry was quiet for a moment, his eyes boring into the back of Louis's head, until he sighed and, from the sounds of it, turned to look out his own window.

Louis felt Dean staring at him from the mirror in the front seat, but refused to make eye contact.

  


The days went on and nothing changed. Sometimes, things were great, almost like when they first moved in together. Louis would wake up before Harry and go downstairs to make breakfast, and Harry would soon join, greeting Louis with a 'good morning' and a kiss on the cheek. They would shower together, Harry doing his best to pretend that he wasn't feeling self-conscious, and then find something around town to get into, or even stay at home, doing a bit of housework, per Harry's request, but getting distracted by each other and having to take a break every now and then. Louis had begun writing for his next album and Harry would often sit there and watch him, throwing out a thought for a line or even a concept when Louis would ask.

Other days, it was like Louis was living with a stranger. The two would barely talk and when they did, it was strained. Louis could tell just by the way Harry held himself what kind of day it was going to be and, sadly, the bad days outweighed the better ones.

  


When the music video was finished, Louis's team had booked him and Harry a spot on a morning talk show to premiere it. Louis didn't know why they couldn't just put it online, like every other video, but the show had been booked before Louis gave his opinion and canceling would make him seem like a jerk, so upon getting Harry's assurance that he was okay with it, Louis was left with no choice but to accept the circumstances.

Something was off with Harry the morning that they were set to premiere the video; more so than usual. He woke up right after Louis with a whimper and a groan and it took a good two minutes for him to even sit up once his eyes were opened. Louis had asked if he was alright, but Harry didn't answer, so the singer had played with the dancer's hair until he rose to his knees, wincing and squeezing the space between his eyes when he did.

“Babe, what is it?” Louis had asked, sitting up straight and holding onto his boyfriend's shoulders as his face paled.

“Nothing,” he answered. “Just got nauseous for a minute, but I'm okay.”

“We can cancel the show,” Louis told him, but Harry shook his head once.

“We're not doing that,” he decided. “If anything, you can go on without me, but I'm okay. Honest.”

Louis knew that was a lie, though, because as he cooked breakfast, Harry sat at the table, his head on the surface, and when he sat up, he did the wincing thing again before saying he would only like some juice. Worried, Louis obliged, again assuring Harry that they didn't have to do the show, but one cold look from his boyfriend quieted him immediately.

After drinking his juice, Harry seemed a little better, but not much. He was still paler than normal, though he felt cold to Louis's touch, and would often reach out and balance himself with the wall while walking.

That was only one of the reasons why Louis kept a tight grip on his hand as they entered the studio where the talk show was being filmed, ushered by security. He made sure to force a smile and wave to the screaming fans as he passed, but his main concern was getting Harry inside and into a chair.

  


“...Please welcome who, in my opinion, is the cutest couple in the public eye right now; Louis T. and Harry Styles!”

Okay, this was it. They were going out there. Louis was always nervous before interviews, even after all this time, but this time, he wasn't worried for himself. He was concerned for his boyfriend, who seemed to only be growing paler and weaker, but who kept, of course, insisting that he was fine.

Seeming frozen in place, it was Harry who had to lead Louis out, and Louis didn't remember to smile until a few seconds into being greeted by the screams.

“Welcome, gentleman!” one of the two female interviewers, Celia, greeted, hugging each of them before they took their seats. They thanked her, getting themselves situated. Louis didn't miss the tight grip that Harry kept on the sides of his chair.

“Today is an exciting day for you, I'm assuming,” the other woman, Kathy, spoke.

“Yeah, it is exciting,” Louis spoke as Harry gave a slight nod along with him. “We worked so hard on this video and recorded all of the shots in one day, so it was exhausting, but so gratifying, and I think it has a good message.”

“The song is quite personal to you two as well, right?” Kathy continued, gesturing to both of the men.

“Yeah,” Louis said again. “I wrote it at the beginning of our relationship as I was realizing that Harry couldn't see himself like I saw him, or even remotely close.”

“How did you feel when you first heard the song, Harry?” Celia asked, and it took a moment for the dancer to realize that he'd been spoken to. His eyes had been half glazed over, and they didn't clear even when he shook himself and began his answer.

“Oh, um, I thought it was really...pretty and I just...I couldn't see...I...”

Harry's words trailed off as the dancer swayed in his seat, his eyes rolling back in his head a couple of times. Celia shot a worried glance to Louis as Kathy looked to the cameramen. The audience was deathly silent and Louis, as usual, didn't know what to do.

“Babe?” he asked, patting the other's leg gently.

“Hm?” Harry mumbled, almost inaudible, as he leaned back and almost toppled off his chair. Luckily, Louis was quick and jumped to his feet, grabbing his boyfriend and lowering him gently to the floor. Someone shouted to cut the cameras as medics ran over. Celia asked if there was anything she could do while Kathy ran to get water, and Louis nearly cursed out a medic who rather rudely pushed him out of the way.

“Is he alright?” Dean asked anyone who was listening as he rushed to Louis's side, putting a comforting arm around his client. Nobody answered, probably because nobody knew, but after a few painfully terrifying moments, Louis heard his boyfriend's voice speak softly over all of the chaos.

“What happened?”

“You fainted,” a medic explained. “Stay right there. Kathy, thank you for the water, but do you have anything sugary?”

Kathy hurried off again, and, peeking over the numerous bodies surrounding his boyfriend, Louis saw Harry's eyes scanning the individuals' faces and broke away from Dean to squeeze in between Celia and another man, whose purpose Louis did not know.

“Hey, babe, I'm right here,” he said.

“I'm sorry, Lou,” Harry spoke, still ever so quietly. Louis was surprised he heard him.

“It's alright, love. I just want to make sure you're okay.”

Kathy returned then with a Gatorade and Louis helped support Harry as he drank. Once some color had started returning to his face and his eyes were less glassy, he helped him stand and led him backstage.

“You have to finish the interview,” Harry slurred, looking over his shoulder at all of the concerned fans.

“I'm not finishing,” Louis said. “I'm going to the hospital with you.”

“I don't need a hospital.”

“Love, you fainted.”

“Yeah, but I think we both know why.”

Louis had been wanting to cry all day, and he could no longer stop himself. He led Harry over to a couch and sat next to him, curling into his side as his tears soaked the other's shirt. Weakly, Harry ran his fingernails up and down Louis's back as he apologized again and again for something he couldn't help, but that hurt regardless.

  


After that incident, Harry stayed in his and Louis's room, embarrassed and ashamed. His fainting spell had made headlines, of course, and no one questioned what happened; Harry had relapsed. Celia had tried to claim that the lights in the studio were extremely hot and paired with nerves, she was surprised that situations like that didn't arise more often, but nobody believed her.

The good part of the whole thing, at least according to Dean, was that the music video became more popular than he had ever imagined. Louis had told him that there was nothing good about this, and his mother had promised that she'd had a stern talking to with her boyfriend after that.

Louis had told Harry that he didn't need to be embarrassed or ashamed. People were worried about him and they wanted him to get better, but no one was judging him over it. That much was true, because the support that was streaming to both of their social media accounts was incredible, but Harry wasn't listening.

After a week had passed of Harry only getting out of bed to use the bathroom, shower and occasionally eat, Louis called Dr. King and got him to make a house visit.

“Babe?” Louis asked, knocking on the bedroom door before entering, stopping a few feet from the bed. “You have a visitor.”

“Tell my mum I'm fine and I'll call her later,” Harry mumbled, laying on his stomach with his head facing away from the door.

“It's not your mum,” Louis said.

“Who is it?”

“Good afternoon, Harry.”

When the doctor spoke, Harry turned his head, confusion on his face until he saw the older man. He sat up quickly, attempting to fix his hair and not look like the poster boy for depression, probably.

“Hi,” he said.

“I heard you're having a rough time,” the doctor continued, taking a couple steps further into the room.

“Of course you did,” Harry said, glaring at Louis, who swallowed hard.

“Are you willing to talk to me for a bit?”

“No offense, but I'd rather not,” Harry told him, still looking at his boyfriend. “Doctor, can you give us a couple of minutes, please?”

“Of course,” Dr. King said, nodding at Louis before turning on his heel and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him. Once the pair heard his footsteps descend down the stairs, Harry's face morphed into one of pure anger.

“What the fuck, Louis?!”

“I'm sorry, but you clearly weren't going to decide to talk to someone yourself!”

“Well, what makes you think that you can make that decision for me?!”

“I can't, but I thought that, if it was someone who you were already comfortable with and he came to you, it might be a little better.”

“You thought wrong,” Harry spat. “I've had his number the whole time. If I'd wanted to talk to him, I would have called him.”

“I know it's hard to ask for help sometimes. I was just trying to help.”

“I know! You're always trying to help, but you just can't, Louis! Give up! I don't want his help, or yours!”

“Harry, I know you're hurting, but you don't have to act this way. Come on, why are you being so stubborn?”

“Because, Louis,” Harry began, his voice nearing a yell then, “I'm tired of this up and down game my mind plays with me! I'm tired of getting hopeful because I feel good for a while when it never lasts! I'd rather just stay like this all of the time because each time I go from high to low, it hurts even more! Why can't you even try to understand that?!”

“I am trying!” Louis said, and he wasn't shouting, but knew that Harry could sense his distress and the promise of oncoming tears in his voice. “That's why I'm asking questions!”

“They're very condescending questions!”

“I'm sorry! I don't mean for them to be!”

“Well, they are! Why do you think I've been in this room! I'm tired of being asked questions! I'm tired of talking! I'm tired of everything! I just want to be fucking left alone!”

“Baby, please, you can't live your life like this.”

“God, Louis, there you go again! Stop talking, okay?! Just be quiet! You're making everything worse! Just leave me alone, and make Dr. King leave too! I'm not talking to anyone anymore!”

“Harry, please-”

“Louis, if you don't go, I will.”

Those words chilled Louis to the bone and, not even bothering to hide how upset he was, he let a loud cry escape from his throat as he turned and headed, slowly, for the door. He wanted Harry to speak out and tell him to stop; maybe say he was sorry and that they could talk this out, but he didn't, so, his tears pouring faster than Louis thought they ever had before, he left the room, shutting the door harder than he'd meant to behind himself. He jumped, and it was his first instinct to open it again, just to tell Harry that he was sorry, but before he could, he heard the lock click from the other side and so he was given no choice but to go downstairs.

“Oh, Louis,” Dr. King said as soon as he saw the singer's face. Though it would have been against protocol if he hadn't been retired, the psychologist pulled his former client into a hug. “I know he's angry and he probably said some things that hurt, but that's normal. I'm not going to say he can't help it, but his emotions are hard for him to control right now, which means his words are too.”

“I know,” Louis said, and he understood as much as was possible for him to, but that didn't help it hurt any less. “He wants you to leave.”

“I figured,” the doctor said. “Is there anything you want to talk about?”

“I don't think I can get anything into words right now.”

“Would you like me to try to help?”

Louis shook his head, pulling away from the doctor and wiping his eyes, though it was useless as the tears were still coming.

“I can get someone to prescribe you something, if you'd like,” Dr. King offered. “I know what being around mentally ill people can do to those who have already suffered with something of their own, and it's even worse when the ill person is someone who you love.”

“No, I don't need anything, thanks,” Louis said, because while he was scared, sad, confused and an array of other emotions, he wasn't depressed.

“Alright,” the older man said. “Just give me a ring if you change your mind.”

“Thank you.”

  


When Louis entered the room hours later, thankful the door had finally been unlocked, he thought that Harry had fallen asleep, but when he opened his dresser drawer, the other rolled over and, even in the dark, Louis could tell that he was staring at him.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just came to get some night clothes.”

“Don't apologize,” Harry said, his voice hoarse like he, too, had been crying all day. “Come here.”

Timidly, Louis walked towards the bed, stopping in front of Harry, who took his hand and scooted over in order to pull his boyfriend down onto the bed with him.

“I'm sorry,” the dancer said, burying his face into Louis's chest. “I know sorry doesn't really help in this circumstance, but what will make you happy, love?”

“I just want you to be happy, Harry.”

“I am.”

“You're not. You know you're not. I know you're not.”

“I know, but...I love you.”

“I love you too, but I don't think...No, that's obviously not going to help anymore. I don't know what to do, and I think you should go somewhere where you can get the help you need and deserve.”

“Where do you suggest?” Harry asked, his voice suddenly cold again as he pulled away from Louis, moving far enough away where Louis couldn't easily touch him.

“I don't know, like, a rehab or something like where you went to before.”

Harry laughed humorlessly, rubbing one hand over his face.

“God, I knew this would happen one day.”

“What do you mean?”

“I knew you would try to get rid of me anyway you could and make it seem like it was my fault.”

“That's not what I'm trying to do at all! I want you better! I feel like keeping you here is killing you! This is out of my hands, Harry! I don't want to walk in the room one day and discover you'd starved yourself to death!”

“Sure, okay, Louis. If saying that helps you feel better, we'll go with it,” the dancer said, getting out of bed and heading to the door.

“Wait, where are you going?” Louis asked, sitting up with his heart pounding hard enough to make him dizzy.

“I'm sleeping in the guest room tonight.”

“If you don't want to share a bed, I'll sleep in the guest room,” Louis offered.

“No, no. I'm going. This is, after all, your house.”

“It's our house.”

“Right.”

Without another word, Harry opened the door and left, going to sleep in the guest room. Obediently, Louis stayed in their bed, but didn't sleep at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry! A lot can happen in four chapters ;)


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in two days! Who even am I? ;)

***Harry***

When Harry entered the kitchen the next morning, his eyes red, itching and burning from a long night with minimal sleep and lots of crying, Louis was already sitting at the table, sipping on coffee instead of his regular morning tea. His hair was disheveled, as if he had slept fitfully, or maybe simply tossed and turned all night, if the bags underneath his eyes were any indication.

For a few moments, Louis didn't even notice that Harry had entered. He had his mug back on the table and was absentmindedly drawing lines into it with this thumb as he stared ahead at the refrigerator, unblinking and seemingly in a trance.

“'Morning,” Harry greeted and Louis visibly shook himself back to reality, glancing over at Harry and giving a small, strained smile before taking another drink from his mug.

“'Morning,” he said back.

Harry opened the refrigerator, pulled out the orange juice and poured himself a glass. After a moment's debate, he put a piece of bread in the toaster.

“Would you like any?” he asked Louis.

“Sure, thanks,” Louis replied, and so Harry popped another piece in for him. The two remained silent, Louis drinking his beverage quietly as Harry stood against the counter waiting for the toast to be done. When it was, he put them both on separate paper towels, buttered Louis's and then joined his boyfriend at the table.

“Lou?” Harry started after Louis had taken his first bite.

“Hm?” the singer hummed, looking at Harry curiously as he chewed.

“I know I've said this so much that it probably means nothing, but I'm really, really sorry, for everything, but especially for yesterday. I know you were just trying to help by bringing Dr. King over and I shouldn't have gotten angry with you. You've been so patient with me and you _have_ helped, even if it doesn't seem like it. And then, when you mentioned rehab…I knew, deep down, that your intentions were good, but I've been afraid since the beginning that you were going to grow tired of me, or realize that you could do better and so when you said that you wanted me to go away to get help, all I heard was that you wanted me to leave.”

“Of course I don't want you to leave, Harry,” Louis said, reaching across the table to take his boyfriend's hand in one of his. “I want you to be happy and healthy, though, so if it means you have to go off for a little while, that's what I want most of all.”

“I'm tired of disappointing you,” Harry told him, staring at the man's strong, yet still dainty, hand. “I'll go.”

“You don't disappoint me, babe,” Louis insisted. “I'm just worried about you and it makes me sad that you can't be happy.”

“Well, I'm tired of making you feel like that too.”

“You should want to go for you as well. Your healing process is about you, not me.”

“We're a couple,” Harry pointed out, looking back up. “It's about us.”

Louis grew silent, his eyes diverting down to their hands then.

“I'll miss you,” he said, “but I'm so proud of you and it won't be forever.”

Harry didn't say so, but his confidence in his ability to recover again was minimal, so he may just be there forever. He'd been halfway telling the truth when he told Louis that he knew the singer was just trying to help, but there was part of Harry that felt as if Louis needed a break from him, and who could blame him? Harry's illness was powerful, draining not only his happiness and energy, but that of those around him as well.

  


Without Louis, Harry went to his parents' place that night to tell them that, in three days, he would be off to a nearby rehabilitation center. His sister had gone over for dinner, but Harry waited until later, knowing there was no need for him to torture himself with forcing down a meal for them when he was leaving to fix an eating disorder that they knew had returned, even if Harry had assured them multiple times over the phone that he was just fine.

When he told them, they cried, of course. Well, his mother and sister cried. His father simply pursed his lips, clasped his hands together and stared at his knees for a while, leaving Harry questioning whether he was fighting off tears, anger or both.

“I don't understand why this thing can't just stay gone!” Gemma said, resting her head on Harry's shoulder as tears rolled almost elegantly down her face.

“I don't know,” Harry told her. “Maybe I'll find out.”

She sniffled as Anne dabbed at her eyes with a tissue and Des didn't move a single muscle.

“It's going to be okay,” Harry said, even though he knew that they were aware he couldn't promise that. He turned his head to kiss the top of his sister's and then paused, studying the woman. Feeling his gaze on her, she looked up, her red eyes gazing at him questioningly.

“What?” she asked.

“I am so self-absorbed that I didn't even realize you'd dyed your hair pink,” Harry noted. The young woman gave a wet laugh.

“That's okay. You might be gay, but you're still a guy and they don't notice anything.”

“So stereotypical,” Harry feigned offense. “Did you do it yourself?”

“Always do.”

Gemma hadn't gone to beauty school, but she had done her own hair for as long as Harry could remember; coloring it often and cutting it off every now and then. It wasn't a mystery to him who had inherited all of the talent in the family.

“Can you cut mine?” Harry asked, and his sister pulled away, pure shock on her face.

“What?!” she asked, as if Harry had just asked her to murder him or something.

“Can you cut my hair?” he repeated, even though he knew she'd heard.

“But you've been growing it out for years now, and it's so pretty!”

“Yeah, but I really don't want to mess with it in rehab and, besides, I think it's time for a lot of things to change.”

Still, Gemma stared at Harry for just a few seconds long enough to make it awkward, and then she nodded.

“Okay,” she said. “If you're sure.”

Harry assured her that he was and so the woman stood, taking her brother's hand and leading him upstairs after telling her parents that they would be back.

He didn't know why he was nervous. It was just hair. If it looked awful, Harry could always grow it out again and it wasn't like he looked great anyway, but he almost dramatically screamed when he heard the first chunk of hair being cut off, and then he nearly fainted when she finished and he saw the curls that covered the bathroom floor. Or maybe he almost fainted because toast and some broth from chicken noodle and soup was all he'd eaten that day, but probably not.

“Well, take a look,” Gemma prodded nervously when Harry merely continued to look at the hair on the floor. It wasn't a good sign, he thought, that his stylist sounded worried over it, and he did jolt when he finally looked up to see his reflection. To his surprise, the cut didn't look bad, just extremely different, and he almost actually smiled.

“Do you like it?” the woman prodded.

“I do,” he assured her, pulling her into a hug. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” she said, hugging him back. “I hope a lot more than that changes, Harry.”

  


Louis was in his exercise room when Harry returned home and the dancer decided not to disturb him. Knowing his luck, Louis would see his hair and be so surprised, angry, frightened or a combination of the three that he would fall off the treadmill or drop a weight on himself.

While he waited, Harry changed into his pajamas and then made his boyfriend a healthy after work-out snack. He was just finishing sliding the last slice of cheese onto the crackers when he heard a cough in the hallway, signaling that Louis was headed upstairs.

“Babe!” he called. “I'm in the kitchen!”

“Oh!”

The direction of Louis's footsteps changed and, soon, he was joining Harry in the kitchen.

“Hey, love, how did it go with-Oh my god, your hair!”

“I know,” Harry said, trying to nervously tug on a curl before remembering that they were gone.

“It looks great!” Louis told him, coming closer to play with the bottom of his short hair. “I was just surprised, but it's really nice. Where did you go to get it done?”

“Gemma did it.”

“Oh, really?!”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I love it. Do you like it?”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows because that had not been the reaction he'd been expecting from his boyfriend.

“You really like it?”

“Yeah! You don't?”

“Yeah...I mean, I guess, but I didn't expect you to.”

“I really think you could pull off anything, babe,” Louis said, popping up on his tiptoes to give his boyfriend a quick kiss. “At least in my eyes, you can.”

“I...I made you a snack,” Harry said, turning away from the other quickly because he had suddenly started getting watery eyes and there was no reason he should be getting so emotional.

“Aw, thanks, babe,” Louis said, reaching around his boyfriend to pick up a cheese cracker sandwich, using one hand to eat it while the other went back to playing with the bottom of Harry's hair while the dancer leaned with his front against the counter.

“I'm going to miss you,” Harry finally told him, turning around as Louis finished the food that was in his hands to pull him against his chest.

“I'll miss you too, but I'll visit whenever I can.”

“I tried not to let this happen.”

“I know, babe. I know.”

  


Harry went through an array of emotions during the next few days. He was sad about leaving, scared that Louis would feel better with him gone and not want him to come back, and, occasionally, he would feel happiness; confident that he would go off, get better and then return to Louis so they could focus on their life together without Harry's demons being at the forefront of everything.

By the time he was being dropped off at rehab, Harry felt numb. He'd said his goodbyes to his family the previous night, which had been more emotional than even the first time he was sent off to heal, and so Harry thought he just couldn't feel anything else at the moment; like it was physically impossible.

As Louis took Harry in his arms for one last time, at least for a while, moisture filled the singer's eyes for the umpteenth time already that day, but Harry's were dry. He tried to seem like he cared that he was going to be separated from him, but at the time, he didn't. Everything was strategic. Harry had to go to rehab to save his and Louis's relationship, but even if he failed in doing that, it would be okay because maybe it would be best for Louis if he let Harry go for good. Even if Harry reached a healthy place, how long would it last? Wouldn't Louis always be stressed; waiting for him to relapse again?

  


Harry went through the motions of rehab. He woke up when he was supposed to, ate when he felt like it and took the consequences when he didn't. He talked in therapy, telling the doctor what he wanted to hear which he knew the professional was aware of. Harry didn't care. His emotions were still missing in action, and he didn't know why everyone insisted that feeling pain was better than feeling nothing. Honestly, this wasn't so bad. When the doctor placed Harry on a higher dosage of his medication, Harry didn't want to take it. It had nothing to do with the side effects that time. He simply didn't want to feel better. He was growing afraid to ever feel anything again.

As promised, Louis visited Harry whenever he was allowed and called him every night. His parents visited too, as well as Liam, Niall and Zayn, and even Jay sometimes, but Harry wished they wouldn't. He had to pretend to feel then, but while he could fake a smile, or even a frown and claim he was having a bad day, no one ever looked completely confident that he was being honest with them which, of course, he wasn't. It was stressful for them and exhausting for him, so Harry just wished they would leave him to rot there in peace. Besides, he hated the looks of sadness and sympathy on their faces as they looked around at where they were leaving Harry. It was all really not worth it.

  


“…Babe?...Babe...Babe!”

“Huh?” Harry asked, jolting back to reality and physically shaking himself. From next to him at the table, Louis was staring at him, concern written all over his face. Harry wanted to look away, but he didn't.

“Are you okay?” Louis asked.

“Yeah,” Harry answered. “Of course.”

“Did you hear a word of what I just said?”

“Um...”

Harry wracked his brain, thinking. He could remember hearing Louis talking so, surely, he had to have picked up at least a little of what he had been telling him, but nothing was coming back to him. The hurt on Louis's face made Harry's own heart ache a little; the first thing he'd really felt in a while, and so he pushed it down, afraid of what else could potentially come up if he let any of it in.

“Sorry, love,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I'm just super tired today. I don't know why.”

Harry was a little extra tired, but he knew that wasn't why he hadn't heard what Louis had said. He'd simply not been paying attention, like the terrible boyfriend he was.

“Do they have you drugged up or something?” Louis asked, scanning the other's face worriedly.

“No,” Harry assured him. “I just slept really fitfully last night.”

“I can leave so you can get some rest.”

“Yeah,” the former dancer agreed. “You should leave.”

“Oh,” Louis said, clearly not having been expecting that reply. “Oh, o-okay.”

Louis stood, expecting Harry to do the same, but when he remained seated, Louis sat back down himself.

“Are you sure you're alright?”

Instead of answering, Harry asked his own question.

“How long have I been in here?”

“How long have you been in here?”

“Yeah.”

“Thursday was three weeks.”

Over three weeks ago had been when Harry arrived at rehab and not a single thing had changed. Louis and his friends and family had wasted so much time visiting when Harry hadn't even wanted them to at all and, at the rate things were going, they were about to waste so much more.

“I don't want any of you to come see me anymore,” Harry told his boyfriend.

“What?” Louis asked breathlessly, looking at Harry as if deeply concerned with his sanity which, actually, he probably was.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “It's a waste of everyone's time and energy. There are better things you can all be doing. I'll be fine. You don't need to come see me.”

“We _like_ seeing you,” Louis said.

“Yeah, well...I don't want you to.”

“Oh,” Louis said yet again, nearly shrinking in on himself from the pain that Harry had just caused. Harry wasn't reliable for much, but Louis would always be able to count on him to hurt him and worry him and make him cry. That had never been Harry's intention. He'd wanted to love Louis properly and make him happy; show him that there was at least one man he could trust, but he'd done the opposite. Perhaps he'd hurt Louis more than any of the men from his past ever did because he'd had hope in Harry. For a while, things were going well enough for Louis to knock his walls down, but then Harry turned out just like the others. Maybe he hadn't physically abandoned him, but he had emotionally, and loving a ghost couldn't have been easy.

Louis was a good person, though, and he did love Harry. No matter what Harry said or what his disorder tried to make him believe, he knew that Louis loved him. He wouldn't have stayed around through all of the pain simply because he was a good man. But just because you loved someone didn't mean you should be with them and Louis may not be able to see it that way, but Harry knew better and if he couldn't free himself from his demons, he could at least free Louis from them.

“Actually Lou,” he began, feeling sick and almost wanting to cry, but fighting with all he had to keep all emotions turned off. He loved Louis just as much as Louis loved him and when you loved someone, you did what was best for them, no matter what. “We just...We need to end this.”

Harry refused to look in the other's eyes while waiting for a response, knowing if he took in the devastated look in the crystal blues that everything would be done for and he would retract his words.

“What do you mean?” Louis finally asked, his voice breaking. Harry blinked slowly, struggling to keep his face completely expressionless.

“Exactly what I said,” he told him. “You are more than I ever dreamed you would be. I've told you that before, but I am nothing like what I hoped I would be for you.”

“But, babe...you're fine. You're-I want you.”

“I don't want you, Louis,” Harry said, swallowing as pain started to creep in on him; the other's pain, not his own. “I'm in no place for a relationship and, honestly, all of this is just causing me more stress than I need. I want to be alone, Louis. I'm sorry.”

“Well...Well how about I just leave now and give you a while to think about this? I don't have to visit all the time or call every night. You can have as much time as you need.”

There was pleading in Louis's voice; desperation. Harry's breath hitched and his own voice wasn't completely steady as he spoke, but he at least kept it strong.

“It's never going to change. I never wanted to hurt you, Louis, but I promise this is the last time I will. It's over. Please leave.”

Knowing a break down was mere moments away, Harry stood and turned to walk away, but Louis grabbed his wrist and Harry wanted nothing more than to fall into his arms and cry, but instead, he pulled away harshly, nearly knocking Louis off of his chair. The singer stood shakily to his feet, one tear sliding down his cheek, but many more promising to come.

“You're not feeling well, Harry. I don't think you mean this.”

“I do,” Harry told the other. “I'm not going to be with you anymore; not while I'm here, not when I get out, not ever again. You'll find a man some day, Louis, I know you will; one who won't hurt you all the time or leave you, but I'm not him. Goodbye.”

“Harry!”

“I have nothing more to say,” Harry said, turning on his heel again.

“I do!”

“Yeah, well, I don't want to hear it.”

The shaky gasps of breath that Louis was taking in were audible for a good few feet, and Harry felt them deep within himself. He hated himself more than he ever had then, for just a moment, but he knew that this pain Louis felt would pass, and then he would never be hurt by Harry again. He would, like Harry said, be free to find that man who was perfect for him, and it would hurt Harry when that happened, but he would be happy for him, and happy with himself for making one single good decision in his lifetime.

  


“Something happened with you and your boyfriend yesterday,” Harry's therapist noted the next morning as Harry sat on his couch, legs crossed and looking out the window. His eyes stung and he knew they were red, but the doctor had almost seemed glad to see that Harry felt something real, even if it was nearly unbearable pain.

“He's not my boyfriend anymore,” Harry explained, almost crying again at having to speak those words out loud.

“Would you like to talk about what happened?”

“I broke up with him. I was tired of hurting him.”

“Being in an intimate relationship while suffering from such a severe mental illness is tough,” the man said. “Given Mr. Tomlinson's lifestyle, I'm sure the relationship was actually detrimental to your health. I understand that it may not feel like it at the moment, Harry, but you did the right thing, not only for him, but for yourself as well.”

“My relapse was not Louis's fault!” Harry spat, glaring at the doctor as coldly as he could, rage making his vision slightly blurry.

“I'm not saying it was. All I'm suggesting is that his life of fame and constant attention may not be the kind of life you need.”

“I broke up with him because it was best for _him_ ,” Harry said. “He was the best thing for me, but I couldn't be that for him. I love him and I've set myself up for a hell of a lot of hurt, but I can deal with it because it will mean he can eventually be happy. Don't ever fucking suggest that this was what I wanted to do.”

“Alright,” the doctor said, making a note on the pad in his lap. “Although I've found that humankind in general is actually very selfish and people rarely do things that they don't want to do, at least somewhat.”

“I'm done for today,” Harry announced, rising to his feet. To his surprise, the other man didn't try to stop him. He simply told Harry that he knew where to find him if he needed to talk further and went back to writing in his notepad. With a scream, Harry stormed from the room, ignoring the many stares he received on the way to his bedroom, where he stayed for the remainder of the day and where he would probably be the next day as well.

***Louis***

Louis couldn't breathe, and not just the kind of not being able to breathe where his nose was stuffed up from crying. His nose _was_ stuffed up from crying, but when he opened up his mouth, no air would fill his lungs then either. He ended up having to pull over on the side of the road on his way back home and lay in his backseat, even though he felt much too keyed up to lay down, because if he kept driving, he would wreck and if he just sat there sobbing, there was no doubt someone would get photographic evidence and he didn't want this mess out in the open. It wasn't that he was ashamed because he wasn't. He was heartbroken, unlike any time before, and so, really, fuck anyone who judged him. He simply didn't want anyone to know of their break up yet because Louis refused to believe that it was actually a permanent break-up. Harry had said a lot of things he didn't mean recently, but he always came around and apologized after not too long. Louis was hoping it would be like that again.

_He will come around_ , Louis told himself over and over until he started to believe it and the tears finally slowed. _He's still yours. You're still his. Everything is going to be okay._

Though he didn't know if it was smart for him to convince himself so deeply of something which he didn't know for sure would be true, it was what Louis had to do in order to cope right then.

Louis had convinced himself so well, in fact, that by the time he got home, he could barely remember why he'd been crying. He and Harry weren't really broken up. It was just another silly fight. Harry would call him that night, say he was sorry and that he loved him, and that would be that.

Humming to himself, Louis began to dust and run the vacuum. Harry liked a clean house and Louis didn't want to let it get all out of hand only to go on a cleaning spree at the last minute, because by that time it could be too late. His housekeeping skills were nearly non-existent and if he let the place turn to a sty, Harry would have to spend his first few days back at home cleaning and Louis didn't want to do that to him. Harry's first few days back at home should be of him reuniting with all of his loved ones.

As Louis played video games that night, he turned his phone on full volume and set it on the arm of the couch so that he wouldn't miss it when Harry called, but he never did. No matter. Perhaps he'd simply gotten busy or needed an extra night to calm down. That was okay. Louis was a patient man when he had to be. He could wait.

So he waited and waited, but Harry didn't call the next day either and by the following night, the harsh pain and anxiety started to weigh in on Louis again.

_“We need to end this.”_

_“It's over.”_

_“I don't want you.”_

Louis's breaths began coming in short hiccups again and he blinked furiously, telling himself that he didn't need to cry. Everything was okay. Harry loved him.

_“I don't want you.”_

The loudest, most unattractive sob emitted from somewhere deep within Louis and he dropped the mug full of his night time tea on the ground, barely feeling as the hot liquid soaked through his sock, or as he stepped on a piece of glass while blindly making his way to the broom closet to gather the items needed for cleaning up his mess. He sniffled and cried as he worked, and he was sure that he missed some shards on the floor, but he didn't care.

He did suddenly remember, however, that he had cut his foot and that was when he really felt the ache. Raising his foot, he saw his sock stained with both tea and blood and he hobbled to the nearest bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet to fetch the antibacterial ointment and a bandage. He purposely avoided looking at Harry's spare toothbrush which he left there in case of emergencies.

Once his foot was taken care of, Louis continued to sit on the toilet lid, trying to even out his breathing, but it was no use. The harder he tried to calm himself, the higher his anxiety rose and eventually he moved from the toilet to the floor, burying his head in his knees and letting himself break.

Louis didn't know how long he'd been in that position, but after a while, his phone rang and, his heart leaping to his throat, Louis felt hope bubble up in his chest; hope that was destroyed in a mere second when he saw that it was his mom calling instead.

“Mum,” he gasped into the receiver after sliding to answer.

“Louis?!” she asked after a slight pause, sounding frightened. “What's wrong?”

“Harry broke up with me,” he said, losing his breath again when he spoke the words. Jay was silent for just another moment and then she said,

“I'm on my way, baby, okay?”

“It's over. He broke up with me. He doesn't want me.”

“I'll be there in just a few minutes. I'm going to let myself in, alright?”

“Mum?”

“Yeah, darling?”

“Hurry.”

  


Louis was still on the bathroom floor when his mom found him, and he collapsed into her as soon as she was on her knees at his side, crying even harder, somehow. Jay didn't hush him. She didn't tell him that everything was going to be alright. She didn't tell him that there were 'other fish in the sea' or anything of the sort. She just hugged her son and let him cry, rocking him back and forth gently like he was a small child and had Louis been raised by anyone else, he would have been embarrassed, but it was his mother, the only person who would ever know him completely now that Harry had left, and the only one who loved him unconditionally.

When, finally, his tears slowed, Louis leaned away and wiped his eyes. He didn't feel better, but he appreciated that his mom was there, and his body was running out of tears anyway.

“Would you like to talk about what exactly happened?” Jay asked Louis gently.

“I-I guess,” he sobbed, rubbing his dry eyes.

“Okay. First, how about we move to the couch and I make you some tea?”

“Okay, but be careful in the kitchen. I dropped a mug and I don't know if I got all of the glass pieces cleaned up.”

“Is that why you're wearing an absolutely filthy sock?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. I'll be careful. You go to the couch and I'll get you some tea and clean socks.”

Louis nodded, rising to his feet and hobbling to the living room, where he lowered himself onto the sofa with a sigh. His head was pounding, but he didn't care. He would rather focus on that than the terrible feeling in his chest and stomach that had no cure.

“Here you go,” Jay spoke a few minutes later and Louis sat up, removing his hands from over his face to change his socks and then accept the fresh cup of tea from his mother.

“Whenever you're ready,” the woman said as she sat too. Louis took a couple sips of his tea, preparing himself to break his heart all over again by re-living the event out loud, and Jay didn't rush him.

“He basically said he's tired of hurting me, but I think that was just an excuse,” Louis finally said. Jay remained silent, waiting for him to go on, which he eventually did.

“He said he wants to be alone and that it's over.”

“Do you think he's just frustrated with his current situation?” Jay wondered. “I'm sure it's not easy for him to be stuck there while everyone else can come and go. I know it's not easy for you either, but maybe he can't see your side right now.”

“He probably doesn't, which I understand, because it's hard for me to relate to what he's feeling too, but he didn't even want to listen to me. He kept telling me to leave. He said he didn't want me.”

“Aw, sweetie.”

Jay pulled Louis into a hug again, and though his eyes stayed dry, he sniffled as she rubbed his arm.

“Did this just happen today?”

“No, a couple days ago when I was visiting.”

“You didn't say anything?”

“I was in denial, I guess. I told myself that he didn't mean it; that he was just confused and emotional, but he hasn't called or anything, and he wasn't emotional. It was almost like...Almost like he had _no_ emotions.”

“That can be part of depression,” Jay rationalized.

“Yeah, I know, but what if Harry has been wanting to end things for a while, but he never did because he felt too bad to do it or something? When he didn't have to worry about feeling sadness or guilt, he said everything he's been wanting to say for a while.”

“I don't think those things have been on his mind for a while; not the part about him wanting to break up, that is.”

“I don't know, mum. The words came so easily, like they'd been rehearsed in his head.”

Jay sighed, kissing the top of her son's head.

“I wish I could make it hurt less, baby.”

“I know you do.”

“Is there anything I can do? Anything at all?”

“Can I stay with you for a bit?” Louis asked. “I don't want to be here with his stuff...in our bed...I know it's pathetic, but I just...I can't.”

“Of course you can. You don't even have to ask that,” Jay assured him. “How about I go pack you a bag and we'll head out? Maybe stop on the way home for some doughnuts?”

“Okay,” Louis agreed, somehow finding it in himself to laugh just a bit. Jay gave his head one more kiss before rising to her feet and heading up the stairs. Quickly, Louis finished off his tea and then went to sit outside and wait.

  


“Oh, I guess I should have warned you that Dean is here,” Jay commented as she pulled into her garage.

“It's okay,” Louis said, his mouth full of his second doughnut of the night.

“I'll make him leave,” Jay said.

“It's really okay, mum. Just because I don't have my boyfriend anymore doesn't mean I'm going to make you send yours off.”

The woman reached over the seat to ruffle the man's hair and then shut off her car. Sweets box in hand, Louis entered the home.

“How is-Oh, hey, Louis.”

“Hey, Dean,” Louis said, choosing his third doughnut from the box and sighing dramatically before shoving it into his mouth. It was a jelly filled one, and Louis didn't have enough shame to care that a whole ooze of the filling spilled out onto his hand and the counter, even if his manager was looking at him with worry and a bit of disgust.

“Now, love, don't make yourself sick,” Jay said, closing the box and sliding it away from her son, but not making him put down the one he'd already dove in on.

“I wish Harry could love food,” Louis said, looking forlornly at his doughnut before taking another bite and then saying, crumbs falling out of his mouth, “I wish he loved me.”

Dean snorted, but his face sobered quickly when both Louis and Jay glared at him.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just forgot how dramatic he could be, but...No, you're heartbroken, Louis. I understand. I'm so sorry.”

Still, the older man looked like he wanted to laugh, so with a 'hmph,' Louis finished off his treat and then said he was going to bed. Jay and Dean both gave him a hug and told him they loved him and Louis returned the gestures, hobbling upstairs to spend one of many nights to come alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, a lot can still happen in three chapters. (And it will!) :)
> 
> Also, I know there hasn't been Niam for a couple of chapters, but that's because they've been blissfully uneventful; just cuddling and loving each other :p They'll be back!


	48. Chapter 48

***Harry***

“Hey, you and your boyfriend are on the television.”

“He's not my boyfriend anymore.”

“Yeah, I know. The television just told me.”

Harry let out a long, deep sigh, letting his disdain be known; not that Curtis would care. Curtis, a recovering bulimic about fifteen years older than Harry, was Harry's room mate and not a very pleasant person, though Harry felt bad for feeling that way. If he'd had to suffer from an eating disorder for as long as the other man had, he was sure he would be just as cold and bitter. In fact, he was quickly heading that way.

Not wanting to see the picture of himself and Louis on the television, separated by a photoshopped rip down the middle of the photo, Harry stood from the couch and headed back to his room. He usually spent his free time in the bedroom and wasn't sure why he'd even tried to go out and socialize today. He was lonely, he supposed, though he didn't know why. Sure, it had been a week since he'd seen or heard from Louis, but Liam, Niall, Zayn and his own family still called and visited. He had a slew of therapists that he could talk to at any moment, but it wasn't the same. None of them could fill that empty spot in his heart he felt and it was possibly made worse by the fact that he knew he did it to himself.

 _It was for the best_ , Harry told himself over and over every night when the urge to call Louis was almost unbearable. _He's better off without you. He's probably almost over you by now. He doesn't need you._

  


“Hey, your ex-boyfriend found a new beau,” Curtis announced two weeks after that.

The words pierced through Harry sharply and he outwardly winced before he looked to Curtis, trying his hardest to keep his face neutral.

“What?” he asked flatly, blinking rapidly. Curtis simply nodded to the television, and when he looked, Harry gasped at the picture of Louis and Liam on the screen. The picture was taken selfie style, and both men were smiling. The entertainment news reporter was mentioning something about Liam's debut album, which Louis helped produce, being released in just a few days, and then the image cut to photographs of the two out and about 'to celebrate the occasion.' That in itself wouldn't have been so bad, but the headline underneath suggested that Louis was much more to Liam than just a friend and producer, and Harry didn't want to believe it- _didn't,_ really-but there was a part of him that knew it could be true. Liam deserved Louis a lot more than Harry did. The part that really upset him, he told himself, was what that would mean for Niall, and Harry wanted to call the other man and see how he was, if the news was telling the truth, but he didn't honestly want to know.

Harry chose not to eat that day, and though he was warned that each day he refused nourishment was another day he had to stay in rehab, he didn't care. He had nothing to get out for; nothing to go home to. He didn't even have a true home anymore. As sad as it was, rehab was probably the only place he would ever truly belong, with all of the other messed up individuals who tried with all their hearts to get better-and usually failed.

  


When Harry saw Liam at the visitors' table only a couple days later, he walked over to him, trying to keep his cool. He had no proof that Liam was guilty of anything, but the fact that he was alone-Niall nowhere to be seen-and nervously pinching the skin around his wrist hinted that he was guilty of something.

“Hi,” Harry said cooly as he sat down next to his friend, who jumped, startled after having been in his own head and not seeing the patient approach.

“Hey,” Liam said with a small smile, reaching out to briefly touch Harry's arm. “How are you doing? Really.”

“You know, whatever,” Harry said, crossing his arms and sitting back in his chair. Liam gave a sympathetic nod and cleared his throat, hitting his fist lightly against the table a couple of times.

“Something bothering you?” Harry asked, sounding much more incriminating than he'd meant. Or, at least he didn't think he'd meant to sound that way.

“No,” Liam said with a quick shake of the head.

“You seem nervous,” Harry noted.

“Yeah, there's been a lot going on, but you don't need to worry about that,” Liam said, trying to smile again.

“Are you and Niall okay?”

“Oh, yeah, we're good. It's nothing to do with him.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“So you didn't leave him to hook up with Louis?”

Liam's eyes widened, and for a second, Harry thought he'd caught him, but then his face turned from shocked to angry and he crossed his arms as well, sitting up straighter and staring down the bridge of his nose at the other man.

“You heard those rumors,” he noted. It wasn't a question, but Harry said, 'yes' anyway.

“Well,” Liam continued, “'Rumors' are exactly what they are and I can't believe you would think otherwise. I love Niall, but even if something happened between us, you are my best friend-or at least I thought-and I would never hook up with someone who you are in love with, or were, once upon a time.”

As Liam spoke, Harry realized how ridiculous he'd been to even think that what he'd heard on the television would ever be true and he chewed on his lip, knowing he deserved for Liam to storm out of the room at any moment and leave Harry to never hear from him again either. When he didn't, Harry hurried to attempt to explain himself.

“I'm sorry,” he said right away. “I didn't believe the rumors; not really. It's just scary being in here, almost completely separated from the outside world. I can call you on the phone, but, really, I don't know what's been going on in any of your lives. I broke up with Louis and I know I told him he needed to find someone new, but when I thought about him doing it so soon and with someone else who I loved-my best friend-it hurt. You know that I don't think, say or do rational things when I'm hurt, so I'm sorry.”

“It's okay,” Liam said, his defensive posture crumbling immediately. “I can't even imagine how that would have felt if it had been me in here, seeing you and Niall on the screen or something, but I promise that I do not want Louis. I mean...is it even okay that we're still friends?”

“Of course. I hurt him, not the other way around. He shouldn't be punished for what I did anymore.”

Liam nodded, still looking conflicted, so Harry smiled at him the best he could. It was just a twitch of the corners of his mouth, he thought, but he'd tried.

“How is Louis, by the way?” he asked, holding his breath after the words were out, not sure what kind of answer he wanted.

“Not great,” Liam admitted, and Harry swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat. “Besides the stuff with you, he has to find a new manager now.”

“Wait...a new manager?”

“Yeah, to replace Dean. Did you not hear about that one?”

“No, I did not. What happened to Dean?”

“Turns out, he's been releasing all of the negative, untrue rumors about Louis to the press for media attention and money profits.”

“Oh, holy shit,” Harry breathed, all other words failing him as his heart broke for his former lover.

“That's not the worst part,” Liam said.

“How can it get worse?”

“Because Dean and Louis's financial manager have been embezzling money from him slowly for a while now. It wasn't enough for Louis to ever notice, because he simply thought all of his sales were starting to decline, but the financial manager got busted for doing it to someone else and when the police further investigated, they discovered he'd been doing it to quite a few clients, Louis included, and the guy dragged Dean down with him.”

“Oh my god,” Harry said, and then, because he had nothing else to say, “Oh my god,” again.

“Yeah,” Liam said. “Then when we went out for the EP release, he got so pissed drunk and cried in the middle of the club until we sneaked him out, and then he threw up in Niall's car, cried some more and finally passed out. It was frightening, honestly.”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to picture Louis like that. Nobody was happy all of the time, but his Louis had always been so positive and making sure everyone had a good time in everything they did. When he did break, it was always in private and he pulled himself back together quickly. Harry wanted to blame Dean, Louis's financial manager; everyone but himself, but, even though part of him thought that there was no way Louis would be that devastated over their break up, most of him knew that he'd had a big role in breaking Louis down too.

“Sorry,” Liam apologized, sensing Harry's distress. “You asked, and I figured I should tell the truth.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, and then had to clear his throat. “I did ask.”

  


_Don't do it,_ Harry told himself as he reached a shaky hand out for the phone. _You can't help him. You'll only make it worse. You don't need to call._

As usual, Harry's body and mind were on different pages and his body won the fight that time as he picked up the phone and dialed the number he'd memorized before going into the institution.

“Hello?” a confused voice answered right as the third ring began. Harry hadn't been prepared for that voice to cause his stomach to twist painfully or for his breath to be knocked out of him.

“Hey, Lou,” he said softly. “It's Harry.”

“Harry, hey! Um...hold on just a moment.”

There was a shuffling as Louis moved around and then the background noise quieted.

“Okay, back,” he said.

“Am I interrupting anything?” Harry asked.

“No,” Louis answered. “I was just watching a film.”

“Oh. What film?”

Harry was well aware that he was stalling, and that he just wanted to hear Louis keep talking like everything between the two was normal, but Louis didn't seem to mind.

“Just...a film,” he answered, causing Harry to quirk an eyebrow.

“Are you watching porn?” he asked. The sound of air blowing into the receiver as Louis laughed met Harry's ears and then the singer said,

“No.”

“Uh-huh. What kind? I'm not judging.”

“Harry, I'm not watching porn!” Louis said with another laugh that took away some of Harry's pain; just a little bit. “Trust me, porn would be less shameful.”

“Okay, you have to tell me.”

“I'm watching _Magic Mike_ , okay?!”

“The first one or the second?”

“First.”

Harry 'tsk'd out loud.

“Yeah, that is a little shameful,” he said. “There's much too much plot in the first one. The second is better.”

“That's next on the queue.”

“You're redeemed then.”

“I'm ever so glad.”

“I can let you get back to your movie,” Harry said, but the words weren't even completely out of his mouth before Louis said,

“No. I mean, it's fine. The movie will be here. How are you?”

“I'm okay,” Harry said. “I'm not calling to talk about me. I heard about Dean.”

“Oh,” Louis sighed, and it was clear by his voice that his smile had slipped. “Yeah.”

“Are you okay?” Harry asked.

“No, Harry, I'm not okay,” Louis answered with blunt honesty that, quite frankly, hurt.

“I'm sorry,” Harry said uselessly, “for you and your mum.”

“Yeah, well, I'm sure she'll find someone else. She's angry, and I hate that something like this happened to her again, but she deserves better anyway.”

“Yeah, she does,” Harry agreed. “And you will find a different manager that will be so much better for you. Trust me, anyone would be dying to work for you.”

“You were supposed to be my manager,” Louis said quietly, and Harry had the terrible feeling that the man was on the verge of tears.

_Great job, Harry; the guy was just having a good old time watching a film about hot male strippers and then you had to make him cry._

“Do you remember?” Louis continued. “I said if anything happened with Dean, then you would be my manager. You always knew my schedule much better than I did.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Harry said, getting choked up as well. He looked around, paranoid, but no one was paying attention and so he supposed he could let one or two tears slip down his cheek. “To be fair, though, Lou, I don't think I would be able to keep your life in order when I can't even get myself straight.”

“I guess,” Louis sighed, and though Harry knew it was the truth, it still didn't feel good for Louis to agree. He knew it probably was actually good, though. Maybe it meant that Louis was finally facing the truth and preparing to move on.

“Maybe we could have been messes together,” Louis said then, contradicting that thought. Harry let out a small cry, but covered it with the sound of a laugh.

“I have to go, Louis.”

“Because of what I just said?”

“No, I really do have to go. I just wanted to check on you and...Well, I wish I could help more.”

“It's okay. I'll be fine.”

“I hope so. You've got so many people in your corner, you know that?”

“Yeah...I do.”

“Good. I really have to go, though. Enjoy Channing Tatum for me.”

“Matt Bomer is cuter.”

Harry tilted his head, thinking on it for a moment.

“Yeah, I guess you're right,” he finally said. “Well, enjoy all of the hot, half naked men for me, then.”

“Alright, I will.”

“Bye, Lou.”

“See you, Harry.”

The line was disconnected quickly, and Harry had a feeling that Louis had wanted to end the conversation before Harry reminded him that they probably wouldn't be seeing each other.

Taking a deep breath and subtly wiping the moisture from his eyes, Harry headed back to his room, trying to turn off the sound of Louis's voice that was still playing in his ears.

***Liam***

Visiting Harry in rehab always put Liam on edge and, even though he would visit the other man as long as he was there, he hated it. It wasn't that visiting took too much time out of his day, or was a hindrance in any way. Harry was Liam's best friend and Liam wanted to be there for him and spend time with him, no matter what, but the sessions always made him nervous. He hated seeing Harry, half dead on the inside, trapped within the walls of that institution, not getting any better and, selfishly, he didn't like knowing that it could be him.

Liam was doing well in every way; mentally, physically, professionally and in his personal relationships, but bad things happened all of the time. All it would take was one thing to send Liam spiraling back to some, if not all, of his old ways. The worst part was, Liam didn't know what could one day set him off because at the moment, he felt strong. He no longer wished to get drunk, even while out with other intoxicated individuals, and he certainly hadn't wanted to be touched by anyone besides Niall in what seemed like almost forever, but even when people changed, a part of their formers selves always remained, ready to take over when the newer version of them struggled.

Niall had had a meeting with his new employer that day, which was why he hadn't gone to visit Harry with Liam, but the man was already home when Liam returned, making either a late lunch or an early dinner; whichever he preferred to call it.

“Hey, you're back!” Niall exclaimed.

“Hey, babe,” Liam greeted as he joined his boyfriend in the kitchen. From his spot at the stove, Niall turned his head to give his boyfriend a smile and a kiss, which Liam returned before taking a seat in one of the bar stools.

“How did it go?” Niall asked.

“The same as usual...almost,” Liam said.

“What do you mean?” Niall asked, shooting the other man a curious look before focusing again on the concoction he was cooking.

“He heard about those dumb rumors that Dean spread about Louis and me, and he believed them. Well, he says he didn't really believe them, but he asked me about them.”

“Why would he believe that?”

“I don't know. I think he's going more insane inside of that place.”

“Can't say I blame him,” Niall said, turning off the stove. “I made spaghetti with this home made sauce recipe I found, if you're hungry.”

“I'm not right now,” Liam said and, instead of getting himself a bowl, Niall sat on the bar stool next to him.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing. I'm just not hungry.”

“Babe, you were just biting on your finger like a dog chewing a bone.”

Liam hadn't even noticed until then, but Niall was right. Pulling his hand away from his mouth, he saw bite marks on his right index finger and he frowned in disgust before getting up to wash his hands.

“Talk to me, Li,” Niall said when Liam turned the water off and started drying his hands.

“It's just scary.”

“Harry's situation?”

“Well, yeah, that, but those two-he and Louis-were so good together and nearly inseparable and now they're broken up. I believed in them before I believed in us and...well...what if that happens to us?”

“It won't.”

“You don't know that. What if I start drinking a lot again? What if I get mean? What if I turn into my dad?”

“Oh, Li,” Niall said, placing one hand on his boyfriend's knee when he reclaimed his seat next to him. “Harry told us that he broke up with Louis because it was best for Louis. Do you think that us breaking up would ever be what's best for me?”

“If I turn into my dad, yeah.”

“You're not going to turn into your dad. I've never met the guy, but I know you're nothing like him. There's no way. Now, let me tell you that breaking up is never going to be the best option for either of us, so we're just not going to do it, okay?”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“It is. If there's a problem, we'll talk it out. If either of us are ever going through hard times individually, we're in it together. I know it's hard watching our friends go through this, but we can learn from this and I promise you, that's never going to be us. I don't make promises I can't keep, Li. I hope you know that.”

Liam sighed and then leaned forward to kiss his boyfriend again.

“Sorry, I was freaking out for a minute.”

“You don't need to apologize. I'm glad you shared this with me. Thank you.”

Liam nodded, then straightened up and cleared his throat. “Okay, now, you need to eat your spaghetti.”

Getting to his feet, Liam retrieved a bowl from the cabinet and put some noodles into it.

“You're really not hungry?” Niall asked as he blew on his first forkful. Liam shook his head.

“Not yet.”

“Well...will you try a bite for me, please?”

“Are you afraid it's that bad?” Liam asked with an amused smile.

“I really am,” Niall said. With a laugh, Liam opened his mouth and let Niall feed him.

“It's really good, babe!” Liam assured him, his eyes widening with pleasure.

“You promise?”

“Cross my heart. I may eat some now, actually.”

Niall smiled as Liam prepared a bowl of noodles for himself, not trying it until his boyfriend sat down and ate another bite.

“Better than I thought,” he said with a nod.

“You're a great cook,” Liam said. “You need to believe in yourself more.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Glaring playfully, Liam kicked Niall's foot lightly, and glaring right back, Niall returned the assault. That quickly turned into a game of footsie, Liam kicking off his shoes to make it more intimate.

“I love you,” Niall said once he gave up on the game, leaning over to kiss Liam's cheek instead.

“I love you too,” Liam said.

“And you do feel better now?”

“Yeah,” Liam said honestly. It was amazing how easily Niall could comfort him. “I do.”

  


Niall and Liam were on a walk that night when Liam's phone rang. Caller ID said that it was the rehabilitation institute where Harry was staying, and with a feeling of panic quickly rising up inside of him, Liam answered.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Li,” Harry said, and it was clear that he was crying.

“What's wrong?” Liam asked, aware that Niall was looking at him, concerned, but not betraying his friend and putting the phone on speaker.

“I called Louis,” Harry said. “I just wanted to see if he was alright and he...he's not, and I can't help him and I miss him and I love him and I want to go home.”

“You can go home as soon as you cooperate with them, Harry,” Liam told the other man gently, aware that he hadn't been doing much to help himself in there.

“But my home isn't with him anymore.”

“Have you thought about trying to make things up with him?”

“He's better off without me, Li,” the other man said, not for the first time.

“If you believe that, you never actually knew him that well, did you?” Liam asked rhetorically. Harry let out a quiet, but audible sigh.

“I don't know what to do, Liam! No matter what I do, it's never the right answer.”

“I don't think that life has a right or wrong answer,” Liam said. “There are different paths and you'll never know where they'll lead, but I don't think that trying to talk things out with Louis would take you anywhere that you don't want to be.”

“What if he doesn't want me anymore?”

“Trust me, Harry, he does.”

“I don't know, Li.”

“I think you do, and I think you called me so that you could hear it affirmed. You belong with him, I really believe that.”

“I didn't call you for that,” Harry argued. “I don't really know why I called. I'm sorry, I have to go.”

“Harry, hey-”

“No, really, phone hours are nearly up and I have to go before they boot me off.”

“Fine, but maybe call Louis tomorrow, yeah? See if he'll visit you again so that you can try to work things out, or at least get some closure.”

“Yeah, maybe. Bye, Liam.”

“Bye.”

Niall didn't say anything as Liam slid his phone back into his pocket and it took Liam a moment to come back to his senses.

“Never let that be us,” he begged again.

“Never,” Niall promised, and Liam believed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok...I promise that a lot is going to happen in the last two chapters...I know I keep saying this, but don't worry XD 
> 
> I'm going to try to get the next chapter up before next week, but, of course, no promises!
> 
> (Just Hold On came on my shuffle as I posted this, if that comes as any hope for you) ;)


	49. Chapter 49

***Louis***

“Louis, if you do not want to be put back on your medication, then you need to get out of bed and come eat lunch.”

“Mum, I am a grown man now and if I want to lay in bed for four days straight and contemplate the meaning of my life, if there is one, then that's my business.”

“It becomes my business when you're staying with me and start smelling up my flat.”

“Rude. I showered three days ago.”

Louis was only joking. He had at least been showering every day. He may have been pathetic, but he wasn't that pathetic quite yet.

“No, I'm serious, Louis. I don't think it's you, but something in here smells funny.”

“I don't smell anything,” Louis said, sitting up and looking around with his dry, tired eyes to try to find the culprit. “Maybe you're pregnant. That would suck, wouldn't it?”

Jay rolled her eyes.

“Or maybe you have a plate with old pizza sauce and molding cheese sitting at the bottom of your night stand,” she said as she held up the offending dish.

“Oh,” Louis said.

“Get out of bed,” Jay ordered. “We're going to go out and eat something that isn't pizza or chocolate.”

“But I like pizza and chocolate.”

“You'll thank me later.”

Louis highly doubted that, but as his mother left the room to likely bleach the plate he'd had in his room since he couldn't even remember when, he forced himself out of bed, accompanied by lots of whining and groaning. He did it, though, and then got his shower and even did his hair afterward.

“Lovely,” Jay said approvingly, kissing her son's cheek when he found her downstairs a little over thirty minutes later. “Now, where would you like to go?”

“Anywhere with pizza.”

“No.”

Louis would have argued more, but his pants were getting a bit tight on him, so he let it go.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Somewhere with salad and wine.”

Louis hadn't been that pathetic the whole month that he and Harry had been broken up. Sure, he'd stayed in bed for a majority of the first week, but after that, he went back to his place and continued a semi-normal, if somewhat secluded life. Then, the drama with Dean and his financial manager happened and he lost the will power to care about doing anything unless it was for Liam and his album. He went back to his mother's and she had been understanding of his desire to simply lay in bed for the first few days, but, while Louis knew that she still empathized with him, she was no longer standing for his laziness.

Being out of the house was hard. Seeing people happy and smiling was hard, especially when they were with a significant other or what Louis felt was a positive father figure. He tried to act like it didn't bother him and that he was having fun, and he could fool a lot of people, but he couldn't fool his mother, and she took him right back to her place after lunch, not saying a word when he went straight upstairs to crawl under the bed sheets , joining him after a few minutes to watch a film that she knew Louis wouldn't pay a bit of attention to.

  


The next time Louis got out of the house was two days later when Zayn invited him over for pizza and video games. (Of course Louis agreed since his mother had suddenly become anti-pizza.) Besides, Zayn was single and virtually drama-free, so maybe a night with him was what Louis needed.

Also, to Louis's honor, he made it twenty whole minutes before asking Zayn if he knew how Harry was doing.

“Alright,” Zayn answered, not bothered by the question at all. “I think he's finally starting to come around and do what he needs to do to help them help him. He seems like he wants to get out.”

“Good,” Louis said, and it was, of course, but he wished he could be there on the day that Harry was finally released to pick him up and take him back home with him.

“Yeah, it is good,” Zayn agreed, and then asked Louis what toppings he felt like getting on his pizza.

The night wasn't a cure all for Louis, nor had he expected it to be, but it had lightened his mood enough to where he didn't stay in bed all day the next day. He woke up before noon, showered straight away and then helped his mom do the grocery shopping. After that, the two even put a puzzle together before Jay announced that both of them where 'much too young for this shit' and they played Just Dance instead.

Louis wasn't moving on from Harry, because he still thought of him and longed for him every day, but he was learning how to keep living his life without him, however miserably. When Liam gave him the news another month afterward that Harry would be released the following week, the singer felt a twinge of hope that everything would go back to normal, but it didn't last long. Harry wouldn't be coming back to him. Louis would consider himself lucky if the guy even came to get his belongings from their place-Louis's place.

Through it all, Jay and Anne remained friends, which Louis was glad for. His mother had other friends, but none like Anne, and Louis would have felt horrible if she gave that up just because their sons were idiots who couldn't work themselves out. Jay hadn't seen her for a while, or anyone else, because she'd been afraid to leave Louis alone, but Louis finally convinced them to go out for a bit; at least for lunch and a bit of shopping. After some prodding, Jay agreed.

His mother was gone just over three hours, which in Louis's opinion, wasn't a long enough break from him, as he knew he was driving her crazy, but he was glad that she'd went out at all and so he gave her a smile from where he was sitting on the couch, watching television, when she returned.

“Hey, mum,” he said, turning down the volume. “Did you have fun?”

“I did,” she said, taking a seat next to him. “Did you behave?”

“Yes, just don't go upstairs,” Louis teased. Jay gave a slight smile and then paused before she said what was on her mind.

“I saw Harry.”

Louis had known that Harry had gone home a few days ago, but other than hearing from Liam that he looked and acted 'a lot better,' Louis had been disconnected from him. Of course he was, because they were broken up.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, swallowing nervously.

“Yeah. He looks good; healthy,” Jay said.

“Well, that's good.”

“He asked about you.”

“That was nice of him, but it was just a formality, I'm sure.”

Louis saw the woman's shoulder's droop, clearly disappointed that he hadn't been more excited or something, but he wasn't going to let his hopes rise just to have his heart broken all over again. He hadn't heard from the man in nearly two months. He had to have been moved on by now, just like Louis should have been, but he wasn't, and didn't know if he ever would be.

***Harry***

Harry missed Louis. He was forced to face that fact after speaking to him on the phone and, even though he'd never been under the impression that he hadn't missed him, the pain hit him more often after that. It was the first thing he thought about when he woke up, as he sat down for every single meal and whenever he was in therapy, talking about everything except his ex-boyfriend since, according to the doctors, the break up was for the best, even for Harry. Every time someone visited him, Harry hoped that Louis would have put caution to the wind and come along with them, but he never did. The former dancer didn't blame him, of course, but it didn't stop him from feeling disappointment every time he wasn't there.

Of course, Harry could have picked up the phone and asked for him to visit. He was almost certain that the other man would do it, but the possibility of him saying no was much too frightening. Besides, Harry had been telling the truth when he said that he wanted Louis to be free from him. Rather, he wanted Louis to be free from the sick version of him and, even though part of Harry would always be sick, if he could get to the point where his illness was lying dormant, then maybe he could find it in himself to be what Louis needed and deserved after all.

He would never be that man in the walls of the rehabilitation center.

So Harry fought, and he fell, and he flew, and eventually, he was in a good enough place to be released.

As always, he was doing much better on the outside than on the inside, but he had built enough emotional strength to be able to fight the disorder again, at least for a while.

His mother picked him up from rehab, and she greeted him with a tight hug, a kiss on the head and an assurance that she was 'so proud' of him, and Harry appreciated it, but he couldn't help but to imagine what it would have been like if Louis had been picking him up. Harry would have ran and jumped into his arms, probably, and then they would have kissed until they were strongly urged to leave.

Seeing his mom was nice too, though.

Arrangements had already been made for Harry to stay with his parents until he could find a place of his own or, if he was ever brave enough, convinced Louis to let him go back. Anne had offered to pick his stuff up from the singer's house so that Harry didn't have to worry about that once out of rehab, but Harry had politely asked her not to. Leaving his stuff at Louis's place meant that he would have to go over eventually. He would have to face Louis and see with his own eyes if he was doing fine without him. Then, Harry would make his decision on whether to make things up with the man or try to let him go for good.

Still, Harry procrastinated. Nobody wanted to get back with a guy who broke their heart when he was a train wreck straight out of rehab, he thought. Harry had to prove that he could take care of himself before he tried to convince Louis that he could take care of him too.

So a week passed, and then another. Harry had old clothes at his mother's, so it wasn't a dire emergency for him to go and get his things from Louis's place. Still, when Anne asked if she should tell Jay to inform Louis that he was welcome to get rid of his things, Harry panicked.

“No!” he said, enough urgency in his voice to alarm his mother. He cleared his throat. “I'll get the stuff. I just need time.”

“Baby, I can get your things,” the woman said sympathetically.

“No,” Harry said. “I'm strong enough. I can do it.”

“Well, then maybe do it soon, love. I'm not trying to pressure you or make you feel bad, but if it hurts you to go to Louis's, how do you think he's going to feel when he goes home and sees your belongings still at his place?”

“Wait, when he goes home? Where is he?”

“Oh, I forgot...You wouldn't know, would you?”

“Know what?” Harry asked, suddenly forming a headache.

“He's been staying with Jay,” the woman explained. “After everything that happened, not just with you, but with everyone else, I think he just didn't want to be alone.”

“Oh,” Harry said, his chest hurting along with his head. “That makes sense, I guess.”

The former dancer swallowed, wishing he could have been there for Louis while he was going through all of those things; wishing he hadn't hurt him as well.

Before his mother could say another word, the doorbell rang.

“That will be Jay,” Anne announced. “Are you going to be okay, Harry? I can cancel our shopping date. It's no trouble at all and I don't mind.”

“Don't be silly, mum,” Harry said. “I'll be fine. Go out and have fun. You deserve it.”

Anne gave her a son a sympathetic look and a pat on the cheek, and he hated it, but gave a grateful smile anyway, knowing the woman meant the best. Then, she made her way to the front door and Harry heard the lock click open before his mother's cheery voice rang throughout the house.

“Hi! How are you? You look lovely!”

“Thank you,” Jay replied, and Harry's first instinct was to run upstairs away from the woman. Surely, she was no longer Harry's biggest fan now that he broke her son's heart, but something masochistic inside of Harry made him want to see her. Maybe he wanted her to yell at him and tell him what he'd done to her son so that Harry could take that pain for himself. Maybe he wanted to see the hate in her eyes so he would know it was best to leave things well enough alone. Or, probably, he wanted to see the woman because Louis looked so much like her.

“I'm ready,” Anne was telling the other woman after they had shared a few pleasantries with each other. “Just let me get my purse.”

“Great, no problem.”

Anne walked into the room, smiling at Harry as she moved past him to go upstairs and retrieve her purse. Harry hesitated for only a moment before making his way to the entryway, where his ex-boyfriend's mother was standing, waiting patiently. She was looking admiringly at the few pictures on the walls, but her eyes traveled directly to Harry as soon as he rounded the corner and, to the man's surprise, she smiled kindly.

“Hi, Harry.”

“Hey.”

“How are you doing?”

“A lot better, thanks.”

“Good, I'm really glad.”

“Um...how is Louis?”

Harry expected the woman's kindness to turn at least bit colder as her son's name left his mouth, but it didn't. If anything, her smile grew just a little wider.

“He's alright,” she said.

“That's good,” Harry said and it was, of course, but that answer only caused him to become more conflicted. If Louis was 'alright,' should Harry risk making things worse while trying to make them better?

“He was glad to hear that you got to come home,” she said, and Harry smiled, not mentioning that he didn't feel like he was home at all.

“Alright, we're leaving,” Anne said as she returned, her purse slung over her shoulder. “Want to go with us, Harry?”

“No,” Harry said with a small laugh. “That's okay, mum. Thanks. You two have fun.”

The ladies said goodbye. Harry hugged his mom and assured her one last time that he was fine, and then the smile melted off his face as soon as the door was closed. Outwardly sighing, Harry turned on his heel and made his way slowly to his bedroom, where he laid down and stared at Louis's name in his phone for an unreasonable amount of time before opening his photos and looking at old pictures of them instead. It had usually been Louis's idea to take the pictures, and even though Harry never really liked how he looked in them much when he was just looking at himself, he liked how he looked next to Louis and so he saved every single picture to his own phone as well. They had been carrying him a lot more than they should have been the past couple of weeks, despite the fact that looking at them was painful. Perhaps Harry was somewhat of a masochist after all.

One he'd gone through his 'Louis' album on his phone three times, Harry moved from his bed just long enough to get his laptop. Then he pulled up Louis's very first music video ever and had a marathon of nearly every video and interview the man had ever made because why not? How much more painful could it honestly be?

The answer was, apparently, a lot because at some point, Harry had started crying without realizing. In retrospect, he may have remembered the feeling of tears on his cheeks, but he was so lost in his world-his former world, when he was with Louis-that he hadn't paid a bit of attention until a knock of his door jolted him back to reality.

“Yeah?” Harry called out, his voice thick, but stronger than he could have hoped for.

“Harry?” a familiar voice called out, but it still took Harry a moment to place it, and when he did, he gasped in shock.

“Um, hold on, please,” he said to Jay, closing his laptop, despite the fact that she'd probably already heard her son's voice playing through the door, and wiping his eyes furiously until he couldn't feel anymore moisture. He didn't have a mirror to look into so, hoping for the best, the man stood from his bed and opened the door, offering the woman on the other side a smile, which she returned reluctantly. His appearance probably didn't look so promising, then.

“Hi, sweetie,” the woman said lightly. “Do you mind if I come in for a moment?”

“Not at all,” Harry said, confused but not about to kick out the mother of the man he still loved, and he loved Jay too. She would have made a great mother-in-law.

Jay stepped in around Harry and, feeling a little sick and weak, Harry took a seat on his bed. Jay took the chair by his desk, rotating it so that she could face the man.

“I may have told you a little lie earlier,” she began after a second's pause.

“About what?” Harry asked.

“I told you that Louis was alright because you have so much else to worry about and I don't want you to feel bad about anything. You're not responsible for his mental state and no one blames you for anything, but after talking to your mother, we've decided that we're tired of you two moping around, longing for each other but being too stubborn to talk and work things out.”

The woman gave Harry a small smile to lighten her words, and Harry instinctively smiled back, even though his mind was racing.

“Louis misses you,” Jay continued, “and he still loves you. He's not okay with being without you. He still wants to be with you, but he has it in his head that you truly wanted to break up. Maybe I'm wrong and you did, but I don't believe that to be true. You've been through so much, and you were under a serious amount of pressure during that time and, trust me, I know that most people don't make the best decisions when placed in super stressful circumstances. Forgive me if I'm completely out of line, Harry. I know you're still recovering and maybe a relationship isn't what you need right now. That's fine. Just...maybe talk to Louis? I think you both need it.”

Harry fish-mouthed at the woman for a good amount of time, trying and failing to form a coherent sentence in his mind. Instead, the tears that had barely been repressed started leaking from his eyes again and he threw himself onto his back, pressing his fists against his eye sockets.

“I'm sorry,” he told the woman. “I didn't want to hurt him and I-I do love him and I don't know how you're being so nice to me when I broke his heart because he didn't deserve that, but I don't know how to give him what he deserves so I did what I thought was best.”

“I know you did,” Jay said soothingly, scooting the chair closer, but keeping a respectful distance still. “And I know you love him and had his best interests at heart. Love is confusing and scary and the fact that you were willing to do something that would hurt you in order to do what you thought would make him happiest in the long run proves how much you do love him and how you both deserve each other. I know he's my son, so I'm biased, but I think Louis deserves the world and as sappy and dramatic as this sounds, you were a big part of his world.”

“I'm sorry,” Harry said again.

“I'm not trying to make you feel bad, sweetie,” Jay said for the second time. “Your mother was going to have this conversation with you, but then she decided it would be best if I did because your mother is biased to you as well, of course. She, thinks you deserve whatever makes you happy, even if it's Louis, but I wanted to let you know that I agree. Being in love means you're going to unintentionally hurt each other sometimes, but it also means that you can forgive and work it out.”

“It's been months.”

“Time doesn't change everything, darling.”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed, and after a moment, gathered the energy to sit up. Jay already knew he was crying so he supposed it wasn't much more shameful if she saw. “I know his past, and how many issues he's had with people just leaving and I can't imagine it because I don't think I'm ever going to stop wanting him or loving him.”

“Maybe those people had to leave so that you could come in.”

“But I left too. I'm no better than them.”

“Harry, you may have broken up with Louis, but I don't ever want to hear you compare yourselves to the sorry excuses for father figures that he's had in his life, or even that God-awful model that he tried to convince himself he was in love with before he met you and realized what being in love really was. You're nothing like them, and Louis knows this. Now, putting him aside, if you don't think that you will ever stop loving or wanting him, then you need to give it a try for yourself because you deserve to be happy too.”

Harry still felt sick, and now dizzy and scared, but there was a part of him that was hopeful too; excited. Jay was a smart woman, and she would never put her kid through more pain than necessary, so if she didn't think this would turn out well, she wouldn't be encouraging it. If Harry never spoke to Louis again and never tried to make things better, he would disappoint not only himself, but Jay and his mom and maybe even Louis.

Still, he needed to think this whole thing out.

“I'm sorry, but I need to sleep on it,” Harry said, and he expected to see disappointment already on the woman's face, but he didn't. Instead, she nodded, understanding.

“Of course.”

Rising to her feet, Jay clearly thought about her actions for a moment before deciding to hug Harry. He returned the gesture and was surprised to find that it wasn't awkward at all. He felt like, to her, he still belonged.

“Thanks for the chat,” Harry said when the woman was out the door.

“No problem,” Jay returned, her smile brighter and more natural than any of the others had been. “Get some rest. I hope you have some clarity in the morning. Either way, I'm glad to see you home, Harry, and I do hope you're feeling better.”

  


Though Harry said he was going to sleep on it, he didn't get much sleeping in. He couldn't stop thinking about Louis, and Jay's words, and when he finally decided, at five after four in the morning, that he was going to talk to Louis and make things better, he didn't want to wait another second. He'd actually had his phone out, about ready to press Louis's name in the contact screen, when he realized that most normal people were asleep at this time. If he wanted to get back on Louis's good side, it may be best to not pull him from a slumber.

Harry tried for nearly 30 more minutes to sleep, and he almost succeeded, only to be woken by a ding from his phone. Groaning, he lifted the mobile from his nightstand, squinting from the light being emitted, though his eyes widened when he saw a notification from Louis's Twitter account (and yes, Harry still had his updates sent to his phone. So what?)

Unlocking his phone, Harry pulled up the app to see a simple update from Louis that felt a lot like fate:

_C_ _an't sleeeeep :(_

Heart pounding, thinking he shouldn't be so nervous to send such a simple message, Harry moved to his texts, pulled up an old conversation with Louis and sent,

_I can't sleep either._

Louis read the text message five whole minutes before replying, and Harry was extremely disheartened, thinking that proved it; they were over for good. Tears poking at his eyes, he locked his phone, put it back on his night stand and squeezed his eyes shut.

A few seconds later, he heard another _ding_ and nearly jumped out of his skin, swiping his phone right back off the table and opening the reply from Louis with shaky fingers.

_I could always call and sing you a lullaby if you want ;)_

Laughing out loud, relieved, Harry said,

_That won't help you fall asleep._

Almost directly after sending that message, he added,

_You can call me if you want, though._

He wasn't going to call, Harry told himself. It was five in the morning and he had no reason to actually want to talk to Harry over the phone because they couldn't sleep. That seemed like something that boyfriends did.

Then, Harry's phone went off yet again, signaling that Louis was calling. If Harry's heart pounded any harder or faster, he would probably have a heart attack.

“Hello?” he answered, his voice sounding awful.

“Hi,” Louis said, sounding just as exhausted, though Harry would never stop finding his sleepy voice sexy.

“Hi,” Harry said uselessly.

“What's up?” Louis asked.

“Just laying here,” Harry replied lamely. Then, “What's wrong? Why can't you sleep?”

“I dunno,” Louis answered. “Well, I had a migraine earlier this evening that I had to sleep off, so I guess that fucked up my schedule.”

“You had a migraine?” Harry asked, his forehead creased worriedly. It wasn't the actual migraine that worried him. Chances were, the severe headache wasn't being caused by anything serious or life threatening, but Louis didn't get them often; only when he was over stressed or over worked.

“Yeah, but I feel better now,” Louis assured him. “Just can't sleep. What about you? What's keeping you up?”

_You,_ Harry should have answered, but instead he said, “I'm not sure. Just a lot on my mind, I guess.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“You don't have to listen to my complaints anymore.”

“I know, but I want to. I respect your decision that we shouldn't be together, but that doesn't mean that I don't still care about you.”

Harry swallowed, throat tight and hurting all of the sudden. Louis was so kind and amazing. How could Harry have ever hurt him? Yes, he thought he'd been doing what was best for him, but he hadn't needed to say those things. He shouldn't have told him that he didn't want him because he had known that it was a low blow. At the time, he'd thought it was necessary for Louis to move on with his life-without Harry-but he'd been wrong. Causing pain to such a wonderful man was never necessary or right.

“Harry?” Louis asked when Harry was silent for too long.

“I'm still here,” he choked out. “That's what's been on my mind actually.”

“What has?”

“My decision to break up. I...I think I made a mistake, Louis.”

It was the singer's turn to remain quiet for a while, but Harry didn't push him. Finally, he spoke again.

“Do you mean that, or are you slap happy?”

“I'm not happy,” Harry said, and then rushed to add, “I mean...I regret a lot of things, but breaking up with you is at the top of the list, unless you're happier now, and then good. I'm glad; forget I said anything.”

“Did you honestly think that it was possible for me to be happier without you?” Louis asked lowly.

“Well...yeah.”

“I'm not. I miss you, Harry. I'm sorry that I ever made you feel that way.”

“You didn't,” Harry assured the other. “My disorder did.”

“How are you doing with that?”

“Better. I'm out.”

“Yeah, you're out, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything.”

“I'm really okay. I just miss you, is all.”

“Can you come over?”

“You're staying with your mum, right?”

Again, Louis fell quiet and Harry wondered if he wasn't supposed to know that. He bit his lip, but Louis's voice didn't give off any emotion when he spoke.

“Yeah, I am, but you can always come over here. She lives closer to your mum anyways.”

“Are you sure she won't mind?”

“Are you kidding? She's basically been begging me to make things up with you, but I thought that you were happier this way.”

“No. Not at all, and I'm sorry that's how I made _you_ feel.”

“It's okay.”

“But, I mean, will your mum care that I'm coming over this early in the morning? What if we wake her up?”

“I'm out in the backyard now. If you'd like, you can come right around and join me. It is early, though, so if you don't want to, you don't have to. I just...I miss your face.”

Harry laughed in order to not start crying.

“Send me the address and I'm on my way.”

  


Harry was nervous all the way to Jay's house. He didn't know why his anxiety was still so high when Louis had been the one to invite him over. He supposed it was because it would be easy for Louis to realize that he was mistaken when he saw Harry face-to-face. Maybe he didn't miss him. Perhaps he simply missed the idea of him and when they were together, he would realize that all of his feelings had faded or even disappeared.

After parking, Harry went around to the gate and unlocked it from the outside. After entering the back yard, he locked the gate again, quietly, and then walked around the house until he saw Louis sitting on the porch swing, curled on himself with his face buried in a hoodie. His eyes were sleepy and drooping, but he was still awake, and when he heard Harry approaching, he turned his head to offer a little smile.

“Cold?” Harry asked as Louis scooted over, making room for him.

“It's a bit chilly tonight,” Louis said. Harry didn't have any extra articles of clothing to offer him, so instead, he took a seat and wrapped the other closely in his arms. It should have been awkward, as they weren't together anymore, clearly, but it wasn't at all. Louis melted into the touch, nuzzling his nose into Harry's chest before sighing.

“This is the first time in a while that you've been the warm one,” he commented.

“That's incentive to keep the weight then,” Harry said lightly. “I like making you warm.”

“You look great,” Louis told him. “Not that you ever don't or that that's what's important. How are you really, Harry?”

“I'm okay. Really. Please, that's not what I want to talk about right now.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“Us.”

“What about us?”

“Where we're going to go with things.”

“Well, seeing as how we both know breaking up was a mistake, I feel like we should just pretend it never happened.”

“You know we can't do that.”

“Okay, maybe not, but that doesn't mean we have to start all over. We've done the awkward beginnings before either of us could admit our feelings for each other. We've had our first date, our first kiss. We've admitted that we're in love with each other. Nothing has changed about my feelings for you and if yours haven't changed either, then I don't see why we can't pick up where we left off.”

“Because I hurt you.”

“Yeah, but you were hurting.”

“That's not an excuse.”

“You thought in the long run I would be happier, right?”

“Yeah, but you weren't.”

“No, but how were you supposed to know that? That fucking disorder made it so that you had a warped sense of yourself, and that caused you to have a warped sense of how others feel about you too. Of course you didn't see how I could be happy with you when you were so unhappy with yourself. I can't understand how you don't like yourself when I love you so much, but that doesn't mean that either of our feelings aren't valid. We may never get each other completely, but that's what communication is for. All I'm asking is that, if you want to do this again, we communicate with each other. If I say something ignorant, or make you angry or sad, tell me, and if I'm ever unhappy with anything in the relationship, I will tell you so that we can work out a way to fix it together.”

“I miss you,” Harry said, not for the first time that night.

“You don't have to miss me,” Louis said. “I'm right here, if you want me to be.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. We're starting with a clean slate, both of us. Okay?”

“You can do that? You can really overlook everything I've put you through?”

“If I couldn't, I wouldn't really love you, and I do. So yes.”

“And you really want to be with me?”

“More than anything.”

“Then can I kiss you?”

“Please do.”

Moving to the side, Harry lifted up Louis's chin and placed a soft, yet meaningful, kiss to his lips, a rush of adrenaline going through his body at the very first second.

“Shit,” he said once they broke apart and Louis gave him the adorable half smile he always did while tired. “I can't believe I almost gave that up for good.”

“Seriously, though, what you were thinking?”

“It's complicated.”

“Will you tell me later? Once we've both had some sleep and also some quality cuddling time?”

“Of course,” Harry assured him, stroking Louis's soft cheek with his thumb. “I'll tell you everything, and then I want to hear about you as well, okay? I know things have gone to shit since I've been gone and I wish I could have been there for you.”

“You're here now,” Louis said, but it sounded almost like a question.

“I'm here now,” Harry assured him. Louis smiled once more, wider that time, and curled against Harry again.

“I love you,” he mumbled sleepily. Harry knew he would be out any second.

“I love you too,” he replied, and Louis hummed in content.

“Should we go up to bed?” Harry asked.

“Too tired,” Louis said.

“I'll carry you.”

“You can't do that.”

“I'm in much better shape now, and you're not big,” Harry said, ashamed that there was a time that he wouldn't have been able to carry Louis, at least not without a ridiculous amount of effort. He pushed the shame away quickly, though, knowing that would only cause harm. They were moving on.

“Okay, tiny dancer. Carry me away.”

“Yes, super star.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> I can't believe there's only one more chapter! That's crazy! :O
> 
> Also, there will plenty of Niam in the last chapter, don't worry :)
> 
> Seriously, thank you to anyone still supporting this story in any way. I appreciate you all more than you know <3


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Niam's P.O.V. is first and it starts out a few months down the road from where the last chapter left off. Then when you get to Harry's, it picks back up right after the last chapter. I hope that's not confusing, but I liked the flow better that way! :)

  


***Niall***

“He's going to think we abandoned him!”

“No he won't, love,” Niall said soothingly. “We'll Face Time him every day. I promise.”

Niall didn't miss the way that Liam teared up as he stroked the fur of their eleven-week old puppy, Watson; torn between wanting to go on vacation with his boyfriend and the urge to stay home with their newest family member.

Watson had come into Niall and Liam's lives as a bit of a surprise. Though the two had been planning to eventually get a dog, they had found it a better idea to wait until they returned from their nearly last-minute planned vacation to Vegas at the end of August. Niall had a two-week break from teaching dance class before Fall sessions started up and Liam had a small break from doing local appearances at clubs and venues to perform songs from his EP-which was doing spectacularly; he was currently writing for a full-length album-and so the two had decided they needed a vacation, despite the fact that they would be going to Paris for Niall's birthday next month. It had been Niall who decided to go to Vegas. He remembered how excited Liam had been to visit the city while touring with Louis, and couldn't help but to sometimes think that the trip had been anti-climactic for the man. Though he'd enjoyed himself, he was at a turning point in his life; coming down from a long run with excessive drugs and alcohol. He and Niall had yet to become official, but Niall knew then that Liam had already loved him, and so he had chosen to stay in hotels with him. Niall knew his boyfriend didn't regret that decision, but he still sometimes felt bad about it.

Besides, maybe he wanted to go a little crazy now too.

Three weeks before they were set to leave, one of Liam's Facebook friends made a post, begging people to adopt the last remaining puppy of his Great Dane, as he had already chosen the single one he was able to keep. A Great Dane was a much bigger dog than Niall was planning on getting, but how could he fight with Liam's big puppy eyes while he told him that 'they had to help out! Who knew where the puppy could end up if they didn't?'

Niall loved Watson, though, and he loved how happy he made Liam. The puppy was, apparently, more than Liam could have ever asked for in a furry friend, and he commented every night how he loved his little family before kissing Watson and Niall good night and falling asleep with a smile on his face.

“Don't worry, Li,” Harry spoke up, lowering himself to his knees to stroke the dog as well. “Lou and I will take good care of him.”

“Don't spoil him too much, though,” Liam said, kissing Watson on the head before standing straight and subtly wiping his eyes. “I want him to still be excited to see us when we get back.”

“He will,” Harry assured him.

“Have a fun and safe trip!” Louis told the two, making his way from the kitchen to offer a treat to Watson, which he accepted with such gusto that Louis gasped and pulled his hand back quickly, claiming he almost lost a finger or two.

Liam was still a bit teary all the way to the airport, but he cheered up once they reached their gate as the excitement started to fill him.

“What do you want to do first once we get there?” he asked, moving around in his seat like a child excited and nervous for their first plane ride. “Gamble? Drink? Eat? All of the above at the same time?”

“It's an eleven hour flight, so probably sleep, if I'm being honest,” Niall answered.

“Boring,” Liam said. “I'll sleep when I'm dead.”

“You say that as if you didn't go to bed at nine o' clock last night so you could wake up at six.”

Liam waved Niall off, changing the subject by pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“We have to take a picture! This is our first vacation as a couple!”

“Yeah, because we didn't tour the world together or anything,” Niall said sarcastically.

“Look who decided to wear his sassy pants today.”

“Sorry. I love you.”

“I love you too. Smile for the camera!”

  


Upon finally reaching their hotel, the men compromised by ordering room service and a cocktail and then going to sleep; after, of course, calling Louis and Harry to check on Watson, who was doing 'great.' Harry said the dog and his boyfriend were working on wearing each other out, and he wasn't sure who was winning.

Liam was awake before Niall the next day but, even though it was clearly driving him mad, he was a good and patient boyfriend and waited for the other man to wake up instead of rousing him to start the day.

After grabbing breakfast, the pair did a bit of gambling at their hotel. They visited the Botanical Gardens before lunch and then lounged by the pool. That night, they Face Timed Watson and then saw a show. They stopped by a bar on the way back to the hotel afterward, had a drink and then fell asleep in bed after their intimate nightly routines.

The pair spent almost the entirely of the next day gambling. They were smart about it, and after going through many losses were about to call it quits before they had to move in with Liam's parents, when Liam won all of their money back, plus another few hundred.

“Oh my god!” Niall yelled excitedly as Liam screamed wordlessly, jumping up and down before picking Niall up and spinning him. They looked obnoxious, they were sure, but they didn't care, and after collecting Liam's winnings, Niall and Liam ran off, giggling despite the fact that the other poker players were glaring holes in the back of their heads.

Not wanting to push their luck, they quit gambling for the day. Niall bought them drinks to celebrate, as well as a few people in the vicinity.

When they got back to their room, Liam and Niall had a Face Time session with Watson and Liam assured him that he would get new toys with his winnings.

“What do I get?” Louis had asked then.

“Nothing,” Liam answered. “I don't think you're struggling.”

“True,” Louis agreed. “I finally got the last payment that Dean was ordered to return to me today. I'm so glad I found a new and better manager. I don't even have to pay him, except with my body.”

“That's disgusting,” Liam said, even though it wasn't, really, given how Harry was Louis's current manager. Niall at first worried when he found out they were putting their money into one account. What if they broke up again? He liked to think that, even in that instance, the two could remain friendly enough to figure out something that wouldn't leave either of them in too undesirable of a situation, but crazy things happened.

When he voiced those fears to Liam, his boyfriend had laughed, given him a kiss and said, “Where's this pessimism coming from, sunshine?” Niall then realized he was right. Even when crazy things happened, life was strange in a way that, usually, it ended up alright. That wasn't true all of the time, of course, but as long as he was around, he would do his best to make sure that, for his friends and family, it would, somehow.

Niall and Liam decided to go to a club that night. Liam wasn't the biggest fan of them anymore, as Niall thought they reminded him too much of his 'wild days,' but he would still go when their friends invited them along. Besides, he said he didn't feel like he would get the full Vegas experience without going into at least one, and Niall agreed. It would be fine, he knew. Liam's self control had grown to the point where it was even better than Niall's sometimes, and even though he every now and then got a little drunker than he wanted to, he never let himself get too far gone. Drunk Liam these days was cuddly and loving Liam anyway, and so Niall was quite fond of him. Of course, he was fond of all Liams, even the moody ones that sometimes got angry when Niall forgot to take the trash out on his turns. Liam would always do it for him in the end anyway, so he couldn't have been too angry, Niall thought.

Upon arriving at the night club, the boyfriends started with a couple shots, and then Niall ordered each of them their favorite drink.

“This is all I'm having,” Liam insisted as Niall handed his beverage over.

“Me too,” he agreed. Liam smiled and gave Niall a kiss. Niall tasted the salt still stuck to his lips and nearly dropped his own drink.

The drinks were enough to give the both of them a slight buzz while keeping them otherwise coherent; it was just enough to make them even more handsy and giggly than usual, but not so much that the feeling would last all night, and that was okay.

They spent nearly an hour on the dance floor, usually just dancing with each other but sometimes breaking to take a picture or even dance with a fan. Of course, most of the fans were Liam's, as he was the breakout singer, but Niall didn't mind. He was proud of his man, and he loved that his boyfriend's fans loved them as a couple as well.

Once the two left the dance floor, sweaty but smiling, they broke their earlier promise and ordered just one more drink to share. Exhausted, they leaned against the bar, their cheeks resting on their hands, staring at each other as they drank from their respective straws, with Niall giggling every time Liam did, knowing the other man was blushing even if he couldn't see it under the club lights.

After they finished their drink, the pair held hands and left the club, deciding to walk for a bit before they called a taxi. It was a nice night, and the light breeze gave them both some energy back.

“It's so pretty out,” Liam sighed, walking unsteadily as he stared up at the stars.

“You're so pretty,” Niall said, kissing his boyfriend's bicep and giving his hand a couple of gentle squeezes, just to remind himself that the man was really there and that his was really his life.

“You're prettier,” Liam argued lightly.

“We're not starting this fight,” Niall said.

“Okay. Either way, we'd have pretty babies.”

“I'd hope they'd have your eyes.”

“Why?” Liam asked, looking at Niall, sincerely confused. “Yours are so light and sparkly, like crystals.”

“But yours are so dark and deep. My eyes are okay, but yours are amazing; from the color to the shape.”

Liam smiled, thankfully not arguing against the compliment.

“Fine, they would have my eyes, but they would have your smile and laugh.”

“Your smile and laugh are wonderful, but fine; that's fair enough.”

“Do you want babies someday?” Liam asked, and Niall's heart skipped a beat at just the thought.

“Not any time soon, but some day, yeah. What about you?”

“I do,” Liam said. “I didn't used to think I did, or maybe I just pretended I didn't, but yeah, I do. I'm not in any rush either.”

“We have to get married first,” Niall rationalized. “I mean, we don't have to, but I want to.”

“Of course,” Liam said, so naturally, as if that was a given; as if he never once claimed to want nothing to do with a relationship, let alone a marriage and kids. Niall's heart was hammering and his head was spinning, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol.

“Marry me, Liam,” he said, spinning out of Liam's hand to stop in front of him and lower himself to the ground on one knee. The other man giggled, pure joy on his face.

“Okay,” he said.

“I'm serious,” Niall told him, because he didn't think he knew that he was. “I want to marry you. Right now.”

“Right now?” Liam laughed again.

“Well, not now because all of the wedding chapels are closed, but maybe tomorrow?”

“You're drunk,” Liam said, tugging on Niall's hand to try to get him to stand. Niall did, but he wasn't giving up.

“I'm not drunk,” he disagreed as he took Liam's hand and began walking again. “I want to marry you tomorrow here; in Vegas.”

“We'll see how you feel in the morning,” Liam said.

“What if I say that I know I'll feel the same?”

“If you feel the same tomorrow, then yes.”

Niall could have fainted. _He was getting married tomorrow!_

***Liam***

When Liam woke the next morning, he didn't have to even open his eyes to know that Niall wasn't beside of him. Frowning, he groaned.

“Ni?” he called out, keeping his eyes shut.

“I'm right here,” his favorite voice answered and, with a smile, Liam opened his eyes, sitting up and turning his body to find the person it belonged to. His smile turned to a frown when he found him, on one knee, by the bed.

“What…?” he asked. Niall answered his unfinished question.

“My mind hasn't changed,” he said, “though by the look on your face, I'm thinking that perhaps yours has.”

“No, no,” Liam said, shaking his head quickly. “I was just confused. Thought I dreamed that conversation last night.”

“Nope,” Niall assured him, popping his 'p.' “I love you so much and I literally can't wait to make you a Horan. Or make myself a Payne. Or a Horan-Payne. Or a Payne-Horan.”

“I want to take yours,” Liam said right away. “Payne will stay for professional purposes, probably, but I really just want to be a Horan.”

“Okay then, Liam James Horan,” Niall agreed, getting off his knee and climbing on top of Liam's legs on the bed instead. “I think that's the best name I've ever heard.”

“Are you actually serious though?” Liam asked, smiling, but still unsure on whether this was a big, long joke.

“I'm serious,” Niall assured him. “I was going to go out and look for wedding bands while you were sleeping, but then I figured that should be something that we do together.”

“This is crazy,” Liam said with a laugh, though not a completely unexcited one.

“I said I wanted to come to Vegas and get a little crazy,” Niall reminded him.

“Yeah, but this is _super_ crazy, and cheesy as fondue.”

“Ooh, we should definitely have fondue at our wedding party when we get back home.”

“Our families will kill us!”

“They'll maim us, but I don't think they'll kill us.”

“Didn't we talk before about how real life isn't like the movies?”

“This isn't like the movies at all,” Niall said. “We're not drunk. We didn't just meet. We're sober and we're in love. We won't try to annul the marriage in the morning. We want to get married someday anyway, so why not today?”

“Don't you want a more romantic wedding?”

“We're already going to Paris next month. That can be our super romantic and sappy honeymoon, like how I'm super romantic and sappy. Our wedding should be spontaneous and a little bit nuts, in the best possible way, like you.”

“You continue to amaze me every day, Niall Horan,” Liam said after turning the words over in his mind for a bit, and then he kissed his boyfriend, knowing already that he wasn't at all bothered by his morning breath.

“Same to you, Liam Horan.”

“I'm not Liam Horan yet,” Liam said. “Let me get a shower and we'll go change that, yeah?”

  


Liam was shaking as he signed his marriage certificate, both from nerves and excitement. He wasn't bad nervous. Even though this was crazy, it was possibly the best decision he'd ever made. It was simply a new chapter in his life-hell, a new book-and that was always scary, but Liam knew that he couldn't be happier. In fact, as they were riding in a cab on their way back to their hotel, Niall placing kisses all over his husband's face and neck, he couldn't help but to burst into tears-huge tears from deep inside of him.

“What's wrong, love?” Niall asked, kissing a wet spot on Liam's cheek as he rubbed the man's waist reassuringly.

“Nothing's wrong,” Liam said. “That's just it; nothing is wrong.”

Niall smiled, a bit of moisture rising in his eyes as well.

“You deserve all the happiness, Li.”

“I hope so, because I have it with you.”

To the cab driver's honor, he only let out an amused sniff at the gross (adorable, Liam thought) conversation taking place in his back seat.

  


“Watson wants to know why the fuck Facebook says you two got married,” Louis said, his face stern, as the newlyweds Face Timed him. He had Harry and Watson close by his side, both wearing similar expressions.

“Because we did,” Liam announced happily, taking Niall's hand to show off his ring before letting the others see his own. Harry's eyes widened, but Louis's narrowed.

“How could you?” he asked. “I was going to make a lovely speech at your wedding. Of course, I'm sure Harry and Greg would be the best men, so I would have to wait until everyone is doing the Cha Cha Slide and then cut the music and steal the mic, but still. It was going to be beautiful.”

“You can still make a speech,” Niall assured him. “We're going to throw a wedding party soon, after we get back from Paris.”

Louis sighed dramatically, and then Harry spoke.

“We're definitely shocked, but we're happy for you two,” he told them. “Somehow, this is so fitting for both of you, so as long as I see pictures, I won't complain.”

“Of course,” Liam said. “We'll post pictures as soon as our parents call to laugh at our joke and we tell them that it's not a joke at all.”

“Good,” Harry said, and then rubbed Watson's head. “Your daddies got married, Watty! Aren't you so happy for them?”

“Watty?” Liam asked flatly.

“Yes. It's my special nickname for him,” Harry explained.

“You two need a puppy.”

Louis and Harry looked at each other and smiled.

“I love all of us,” Niall sighed, resting his head on Liam's shoulder.

“Me too,” Harry said, staring at Louis for another couple of seconds before clapping his hands together and startling Watson.

“Okay,” he said, looking back to the camera in the phone. “What do you two need help with for the wedding party?”

  


“Niall?” Liam whispered later that night as the two lay in bed, unsure whether the man was asleep or not.

“Hm?” he hummed in his relaxed-but-not-yet-asleep tone.

“I know I say this all the time, but I love you.”

“I never get tired of hearing it,” Niall said, turning his head to kiss his husband's lips. “And I love you.”

“I know you do,” Liam said, repositioning himself so that his head was nuzzled against the other man's chest.

“I'm glad you do, baby,” Niall said, running his fingernails gently up and down Liam's back. “So glad.”

“Thank you for giving me your last name.”

“You don't have to thank me for that. It was a selfish gift, really.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Don't get me wrong, I loved your last name, but watching you sign the marriage certificate as Liam Horan turned me on a little bit.”

“Oh, did it?” Liam asked with a laugh, looking up at his husband's perfect face and nearly sighing out loud.

“It did,” he told him. “Saying it just turned me on too.”

Liam snorted. “You're ridiculous. And perfect.”

“Yeah...I was serious though.”

“Again?” Liam asked incredulously. “We've already gone three times today.”

“I mean...we don't have to, but if you want to, then I'm up for it.”

“Pun intended?” Liam asked.

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Okay, babe,” Liam said, yawning before he kissed Niall's neck. “I'm tired but I'll help you out. I swear, you're turning into a sex addict.”

“Well, you know, when you get married, you sometimes pick up some of your spouse's traits.”

“Ha-ha, you're soooo funny.”

“I know it.”

“Hopefully I will pick up your humor one day then.”

“It is a gift.”

“Yeah, I'm probably out of luck on that. I got some of your optimism, though.”

“If I had to choose, that would definitely be the trait I would give to you, so I'm glad to hear it.”

“And I'm not going to lie, I like that you've turned into a borderline sex addict.”

“Only for you though. I think I'm just addicted to you, in a totally non-creepy way.”

“Nope, you're definitely a creeper,” Liam teased. “It's okay, though. I like that. Now...what would you like me to do? I'm all yours.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

  


***Harry***

As cliché as it sounded when Harry thought it over in his mind, one of the things he'd missed the most about Louis was waking up next to him. He had missed everything, but he'd forgotten how lonely waking up by himself was until he found himself smiling before he even opened his eyes; smiling because he felt Louis's body weight half on top of him and heard the even breathing pattern that told him the other man was still sound asleep.

Harry turned his head, nuzzling against the top of Louis's hair before he finally opened his eyes and kissed the messy fluffiness that his hair always was in the morning before it was washed and styled.

Louis didn't budge at the contact, and Harry was glad. He needed his sleep.

Harry wasn't sure what time it was, but judging by the amount of light that was pouring into the room, he guessed it was nearing twelve in the afternoon, if not past it. That was okay, though. He would be content to lay there with Louis all day.

After a few minutes, Harry heard the door to the bedroom creak open and he looked up from his sleeping boyfriend, making eye contact with Jay, who startled.

“Oh, Harry! Hi,” she whispered. “Sorry, I didn't know you were here. I was just coming to check on Louis since it's so late.”

“What time is it?” Harry asked, whispering as well.

“Half past noon,” the woman answered. “I'm sorry, I'll leave you alone, but is there anything specific that you want for lunch? I can cook something or pick something up; whatever sounds good to you.”

“I'm not sure,” Harry said, stealthily snaking his way out from under Louis and sitting up, trying to blindly fix his hair. He wasn't sure if he'd succeeded or made it worse, but no matter. “I can help you make something if you want.”

“You don't have to, but if you'd like to, I would love the company.”

Harry nodded, rising from the bed and stretching. Jay was still in the doorway and Harry smiled at her before following her downstairs.

“I just went to the grocery yesterday, so we're pretty stocked,” Jay said. “Go ahead and look around, but if there isn't anything you can eat, I will be more than happy to go out.”

“I eat pretty much everything now,” Harry assured the woman as he began looking through the cupboard, and it was mostly the truth. He still veered away from processed sugar, and his starch intake was limited, but he could eat the stuff and usually quiet the voice in his head that scolded him for it without too much effort. “Are omelets okay?” he asked after a moment of rummaging. “I know that's kind of breakfast-y, but my body hasn't realized that it's close to one in the afternoon yet.”

“Omelets are fine,” Jay replied. “Brunch is the best kind of meal, in my personal opinion.”

The pair worked together to cook three omelets, made specifically for each individual with their favorite fillings inside (both Jay and Harry knew exactly how Louis liked his), and, just as they were finishing up, Louis entered the kitchen, bleary eyed with a frown on his face.

“'Morning, sunshine,” Harry teased and, right away, Louis's frown turned to a smile, his eyes brightened up and he launched himself at the other man. With a laugh, Harry kissed the top of his head.

“I thought you left,” Louis said in his ever-so-sexy sleepy voice.

“Nope. Was just hungry and wanted to help your mum with lunch.”

“How cute.”

“You're cute. I like your fluffy duckling hair.”

“Hush it,” Louis said, but he was still smiling as he slid out of Harry's arms and put his feet on the ground.

“But I like giving you compliments.”

“Aw.”

Louis kissed Harry again and then the two remembered where they were. Turning simultaneously to face Jay, the men saw that she was simply smiling at them.

“I didn't want to ruin the moment,” she said, “but I would like to thank you both for getting over yourselves and working things out.”

“What a backhanded compliment,” Louis said. “I need food before I can deal with your attitude, mother.”

“Where do you think you got it?” the woman asked, handing her son a plate, and then Harry.

“I am sweet as a cupcake,” Louis claimed.

“Maybe a sugar free cupcake,” she said. Louis glared at her and Harry laughed. Going behind Louis, Harry put his free hand on his waist and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“I think you're pretty sweet.”

Louis gave Harry one of his huge smiles that lit up his entire face and then kissed him, and Harry, embarrassingly, couldn't stop himself from making a small sound of happiness. He didn't have it in him to be too ashamed, though, and he kept smiling as well as he got his food and sat beside Louis, who hummed while he ate.

  


Once the breakfast dishes were cleaned up, the men took their showers and prepared to go back home. Harry didn't have any extra clothes and, though he could easily have re-worn the outfit from the previous day, Louis had offered to lend him a shirt and so he accepted. For a brief moment, Harry almost asked if he was sure he wouldn't stretch it out, but he stopped himself. Harry probably wouldn't, at least not much, but even if he did, Louis obviously didn't care or he wouldn't have made the offer in the first place.

“Give me a hug, you two,” Jay kindly ordered as the two made to leave. Setting down the bag filled with his things, Louis stepped forward, wrapping his mom up with one arm and motioning for Harry to join them with the other.

“I love you both,” the woman said after a couple moments of embracing each other.

“We love you too, mum,” Louis said as she kissed the men on the cheek.

“Drive safe and call me tonight.”

“Of course.”

“Harry...thank you.”

Harry didn't quite know what the woman was thanking him for, but he figured it had something to do with Louis and so he simply smiled.

“Actually, thank _you_ ,” he said. “The chat we had really helped a lot.”

“You two had a chat?” Louis asked with one eyebrow raised.

“Yes,” Jay said. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with, darling.”

Louis glared, but the woman smiled and pinched his cheek so that he grimaced and pulled out of her hold.

“Embarrassing, you are,” he said.

“I wouldn't be a good mother if I wasn't.”

  


Harry had to go to his parents' house and collect his belongings. Since Harry's car was still at Louis's place- _their_ place-he had taken his mother's car to Jay's house (after leaving a very sweet note, of course), which meant that Louis had to go with him so that he could drive them both to their flat. He didn't mind though, and said he needed to make sure that Harry's parents were just as embarrassing as his mother.

“Harry?!” Anne shouted as soon as she heard the front door open.

“Yep!” Harry assured her.

“And Louis!” the singer added. The woman rounded the corner, her face showing shock.

“Oh, hi, Louis!” she exclaimed after blinking a couple times to assure that her eyes weren't deceiving her. “It's good to see you again!”

“Yeah, you too,” Louis said, smiling politely.

“So what are you boys up to?” Anne asked, looking curiously between the two. Harry smiled as he answered.

“I just came to get my things,” he said. “We're going home.”

At the words, Anne literally cried, proving that she was just as embarrassing as Jay, if not more so.

  


“Wow, this place is clean,” Harry commented as he and Louis headed to the upstairs of the home that Harry had missed more than he should have been able to miss a building.

“It's dusty by now, I'm sure. I haven't been here for a while,” Louis said. “I tried to keep it clean for you, though.”

“You're definitely as sweet as a cupcake,” Harry said.

  


“Lou?”

“Hm?”

Harry rested his chin on Louis's head, watching as he chopped up vegetables for their dinner that night.

“Should I call the ambulance now or later?”

“What do you mean?”

“For when you chop off a finger?”

“Ha-ha, very clever. I've actually got it, Mr. Funny Man. I've become a lot less clumsy the past couple of months.”

“Oh, have you now?”

“Yes. It's kind of hard to hurt myself laying in bed all the time. I've done it before, but it's a rarity.”

“Yeah, I'm going to do the vegetables.”

Since Louis wasn't the biggest fan of cooking as it was, he handed the knife over and made it his duty to get out the needed pots, pans and utensils.

“Also, Lou, I promise this is the last time I'll say this, at least until I mess up again, but I'm sorry.”

“It's alright, love,” Louis assured his boyfriend, kissing him on the shoulder as he passed him to get to another cupboard. They continued preparing their meal in silence, but it was a comfortable silence.

Eventually, Louis started humming.

  


“Stop staring at me!” Harry exclaimed, though he was smiling, his mouth full of toothpaste as he and Louis brushed their teeth together that night.

“But you're pretty and I love you,” Louis defended himself.

“Doesn't mean you have to stare at me,” Harry said, but of course he was only teasing. He didn't mind if Louis stared at him; he was just leery of the man seeing him blush under the intensity of his gaze.

“But staring at you makes me happy,” he said. Harry spit his toothpaste out and rinsed his mouth.

“Fine. I guess you can stare at me then.”

“You're so pretty.”

“So you've told me.”

“I love you.”

“Well, you know what?”

“What?”

“If I truly make you happy, then I love me too.”

Harry saw Louis physically jolt at the statement, but then he smiled, wider than Harry had ever seen. He thought he may have seen a suspicious glistening in his eyes as well, but he couldn't be sure.

“Yeah? You do?” he asked.

“I love anything that can make you smile like that, so yes.”

Louis, who had apparently forgotten that he was brushing his teeth, dribbled toothpaste all down the front of his night shirt as he continued to smile and stare at Harry, who laughed.

“Don't get too excited,” he said. “I still think I'm funny looking and I still wonder what the hell you want with me, but if somehow I make you feel good through the shit storm of life, then I don't really care.”

“I need to wee,” Louis said, setting his tooth brush down and gently pushing Harry out of the bathroom, despite the fact that Harry had seen him take care of business before. The dancer wasn't offended, though. It was clear that Louis just needed a moment, and that was fine. Harry had shut him out for nearly a year, so if Louis needed a minute or two to himself, he could wait. Besides, Harry already knew that there were times the two wouldn't be together, but Harry wasn't planning on leaving Louis ever again, so as long as Louis didn't change his mind, the two would at least always be close metaphorically.

“Feel better?” Harry asked from where he was lying on the bed when Louis exited the bathroom.

“Much,” he answered, crawling next to Harry.

“Hey, Lou, can we get a picture?” the dancer asked. “When you're ready, I want the world to know we're together again and, besides, we haven't gotten a picture together since I chopped off my hair.”

“I'm ready to tell everyone whenever you are, babe,” Louis said, “and yes, I would love to take a picture with my short-haired cutie.”

Smiling, Harry lifted his phone from the spot beside of him and brought up his camera. Louis snuggled close, his cheek pressed against Harry's arm as he smiled at the camera and Harry smiled too, not caring that he didn't have makeup on and so his face looked fuller and his lips were their natural, boring color. Louis was next to him, and Louis loved him, so nothing else mattered. If Louis could stand to look at that face nearly all day every day, then Harry could stand to look at it and smile too.

  


***Louis***

_Louis didn't know why he was so nervous as M_ _s._ _Gloria opened the classroom door and beckoned him inside. He wasn't a student in her dance class that was about to be scouted by a singer who was_ _in_ _need of talent for his tour. All Louis had to do was sit there and watch, but, regardless, his palms were sweaty and his heart was racing._ _He hated this; hated judging people and making a decision that could have such a great impact on their life, whether positive or negative. He'd tried multiple times to convince Beatrice to take the responsibility_ _solely_ _upon herself, but she'd told him that they simply didn't have the time for her to do that. There were too many dancers to see; too many dreams to make and hearts to break._

_Quickly, Louis took out his phone and wrote that line in his notes app before entering the classroom and smiling at the nervous looking students._

_“Hey, everyone,” he greeted as politely as he could. “Just carry on as if I'm not here.”_

_Louis was aware of the multitude of stares he was receiving as he graciously accepted a chair from Gloria and sat, but he was used to them. After getting settled, he smiled again at the other individuals. Some managed to look away._

_Ms. Gloria told the class that they would be doing a few warm-up exercises before practicing their recital routine from the top. Louis wouldn't be taking their warm-up strategy into account while deciding whether he would consider the students for his tour and so he busied himself with the note_ _book_ _he'd brought along, should he need to take notes. Writing in a note_ _book_ _appeared kinder than typing on a phone, he thought._

_Once the class was done warming up and ready to do their routine, Louis turned his notebook to a clean page and looked up, offering the few staring individuals another smile._

_“Places, please,” Gloria announced, sending her students scattering. As soon as they were still again, she began the music and Louis took that time to study each dancer._

_Louis didn't know much about dancing, but he still knew what looked good from an objective standpoint, and what didn't. None of Ms. Gloria's students performed poorly-Louis had seen her work before and knew she was amazing-but some were clearly better than others._ _While some would add an extra step here and there, or become slightly off balanced at certain times, others were flawless, bending and moving their bodies in ways that Louis couldn't even fathom. Hell, walking down the stairs was hazardous to him._

_As his eyes scanned over the numerous dancers, Louis wrote down the descriptions of the couple he saw that were impressive, though they were all but forgotten moments later when Louis finally saw_ _**him.** _

_The dancer was young, as they all were, with porcelain skin that seemed to glisten naturally. (Louis supposed that could be sweat, but the poet in him didn't believe it.) His hair was long, dark and curly; his lips puckered prettily in concentration, and his body tall and lean. As he danced, Louis momentarily questioned whether he even had bones,_ _he_ _was so graceful and effortless._

_Suddenly, the song changed to “Tiny Dancer” by Elton John, but only in Louis's head._

_After the first run-through was over, Gloria gave her dancers instructions on what to correct as well as praises for what they did 'beautifully.' With her constructive criticism in mind, they performed the routine again and, though Louis should have been studying them all_ _over_ _-giving them a second chance-he couldn't peel his eyes from the one with the curly hair. He should write him down in his notebook, Louis thought, but there was really no need. There was no way he would forget him._

_Nearing the end of the dance, the pretty dancer's blank face began to show signs of distress. His body was still moving smoothly, so Louis didn't think he was in pain; at least not physical. As soon as the music stopped, the dancer fled the room, his head down, and Louis wanted to follow him, but of course didn't._

_He wasn't really sure what Ms. Gloria told her class to do next because he was too focused on listening for the door to open, signaling the curly-haired dancer's return._

_When the door finally did open, Louis smiled, though refrained from turning his head at first. The class was in the middle of rehearsing their dance yet again-Ms. Gloria went hard this close to recital time-and so the pretty dancer that had stolen Louis's attention stayed back, probably not wanting to break his class mates' concentration. So he was pretty and considerate. Louis liked that._

_Louis felt eyes in the back of his head and knew they had to belong to the graceful man. Still, he tried to fight the urge to turn and make eye contact with him, knowing it would probably embarrass him. He really wanted to see what the dancer looked like closer up, though, and so finally, he couldn't fight it anymore and turned._

_He'd clearly alarmed the dancer, who jumped a little, but didn't break eye contact. Louis was nearly knocked breathless because the guy wasn't anything like he'd expected him to look like. Somehow, he was even more beautiful; angelic, even._

_Louis wanted to say hi. He wanted to ask the dancer's name and if he would like to go get coffee sometime, but for the time being, all he could do was smile. He wished he hadn't, though, because his smile seemed to break the dancer from the trance-like state he'd appeared to be in, and he moved forward quickly, grabbing his bag that was lying a few feet from Louis and then fleeing the room._

_Sighing, disappointed in himself for feeling any disappointment at all, Louis turned back to the class, though he found it impossible to concentrate anymore._

  


_“So what did you think?” Gloria asked after all_ _of_ _her students had left the room and she shut the door behind them._

_“They were amazing!” Louis told her, and he meant it, even if he'd barely been able to pay attention. “Hey, who was that guy that left early? The one with the long, curly hair?”_

_“That would be Harry,” Gloria told him with a smile on her face._

_“He's extra amazing,” Louis said._

_“He's a doll, isn't he?” the dance instructor agreed. “I can only imagine how unstoppable he would be with a little more confidence.”_

_“Why did he leave?” Louis asked, and then nearly rolled his eyes at himself. Why would the woman know that?_

_“He was out sick last week,” Gloria replied anyway. “Maybe he's still not feeling well. I don't know.”_

_“I hope he's here on Wednesday,” Louis commented, for once not dreading the fact that he would be back for more judging._

_“He'll be at the recital, if nothing else,” Gloria assured Louis with a smile._

_“Great,” the singer said. “I'll be there too.”_

  


It was crazy to Louis when he thought about that moment, and how important Harry had become to him. Louis wasn't used to getting what he wanted, at least not without a boat load of work, and while his and Harry's relationship sure hadn't been easy, it had been surprisingly simple to get Harry to fall for him. Just like Harry questioned what Louis saw in him, Louis sometimes wondered what Harry would ever want him for. It wasn't that Louis didn't like himself. He was a pretty average guy, and he was okay with that, but Harry was extraordinary. He didn't see it that way, of course, but Louis had no doubts that, even if he did know how spectacular he was, it wouldn't change the way he felt about Louis.

“Well, Louis; I must say that this isn't the wedding I expected to see you at.”

Louis spun at the sound of a woman's voice, and smiled when he saw who it had come from.

“Hey, Bumble Bee,” he said, giving his tour manager a hug. “Yeah, if I didn't love Liam and Niall so much, I would be a bit bitter that they got married before Harry and I.”

Louis was only joking, of course. He was happy for his friends, and he knew his and Harry's time would come one day. He feared, at first, that Harry would fall back into his old ways and decide to leave again, but even on the rough days, when Harry loved himself less than usual, it never got to the point that it had been. Given time and support, he would return to happy Harry, and no matter what mood he was in, he stopped pushing Louis away. They were going to make it, and they would both be okay; he really believed that.

“Where is the boyfriend, by the way?” Beatrice asked, giving a quick glance around the party room of the hotel where Liam and Niall were celebrating their wedding that had taken place a couple months ago already.

“I'm not sure,” Louis replied. “I just got out of the bathroom and was looking for him myself.”

As he tended to do, Zayn showed up then at just the right time, his arm locked with Harry's as he skipped over to the two others.

“Hey, Lou! Beatrice!” he greeted cheerfully; so cheerfully that Louis knew he had to be at least slightly intoxicated, but he smiled at him.

“Hey, Z. You kidnapped my boyfriend, I see.”

“We took a shot! Do you want a shot? I'll buy you a shot.”

Beatrice laughed, shaking her head in admiration at the boys.

“Have fun, you lot.”

“Beatrice! I'll buy you a shot too!” Zayn assured the woman, never wanting to leave anyone out.

“That's okay, dear, but thank you. I'm driving.”

“Oh, fuck, me too,” Zayn said, furrowing his brow in concern.

“You're staying with us tonight,” Harry told him. “We'll bring you to get your car tomorrow.”

“You two are so sweet!” Zayn said, giving Harry a hug. When he let go, he gave Louis a wide smile.

“You can still have a shot though, even if you're driving. I won't tell.”

“I'm sure the party will go on for another couple hours,” Louis reasoned.

“To the bar!” Zayn announced, heading to the alcohol and dragging Harry along with him. In turn, Harry grabbed Louis's hand and dragged him as well, almost making him fall a couple of times, but somehow managing to keep him steady.

“Shot, shot, shot!” Liam shouted, making his way to the trio as the bartender handed Louis the shot that Zayn had insisted on buying him. Niall was right by his side, smiling like Liam was just the cutest thing ever which, to him, he probably was. Louis downed the shot in record time, causing the married couple, Zayn and his own boyfriend to cheer, even when he gagged a little bit.

“Zayn, what was that?” the singer demanded.

“Um...just plain whiskey, I think,” he said.

“I'm going to throw up,” Louis said, already feeling a bit dizzy. Zayn simply laughed, kissed him on the cheek and skipped away, probably to find another victim.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked, smiling, amused, at the disgust on Louis's face, but looking concerned as well.

“I will probably survive,” Louis decided.

“I'm very glad,” Harry said, kissing him.

“You two are so cute!” Niall commented. “We totally should have thrown a flower bouquet and rigged it so one of you catches it.”

“Our time will come,” Louis assured the group, smiling at his boyfriend, who returned it, dimples full on display.

“So you're both having fun then?” Liam verified.

“Yeah, we're having a great time,” Harry assured him.

“Good. We're just making rounds, trying to make sure that everyone is good and distracted before we sneak off for a few minutes.”

“Dirty, dirty,” Louis scolded with a shake of his head.

“It's our wedding night,” Niall defended.

“No it's not. You two bitches got married in Vegas without a word to anyone.”

Niall and Liam both smiled, quite proud, and Louis rolled his eyes, but gave them a hug, feeling that shot just a bit.

“Have good sex,” he told them once he broke away.

“Always do!” Liam assured them. “See you in, like, thirty minutes and then we'll cut the cake!”

“Looking forward to it.”

The not-so-newlyweds moved on, holding hands, to check on the next group, and Harry and Louis looked to each other, giving small laughs.

“Dance with me, Lou?” Harry asked then, holding his hand out for the other to take.

“I can't dance,” Louis reminded Harry.

“I'll teach you.”

“And when I still do terrible, you'll tell me that I'm so amazing and you can't believe your eyes?”

“Of course.”

“Okay,” Louis agreed, placing his hand on top of Harry's. The taller man kissed the top, bowing his head like a true gentleman, and Louis giggled again.

“Teach me your beautiful ways, tiny dancer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am terrible at endings, so I hope this was okay XD 
> 
> Seriously, I know I say this all the time, but I mean it. Thank you so, so much for all of the support you've given me through this novel-like story. As I'm sure you saw, my personal life was crazy during the past few months, but I always felt better knowing that at least someone enjoyed what I was writing ^_^ So, one last time, thank you. Take care of yourselves!


End file.
